


Oh No, How’d I Sink So Low?

by AronKBurns, wineandweens



Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bromance, Charlie Finally Showers, Charlie’s a quitter, Day of The Dead era, Denial, Drunken Confessions, Dry Humping, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Dates, First Time, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fooling Around, Hand Jobs, Hate fucking, Implied Relationships, Jealousy, Low-Key Danny/Dylan, M/M, Matt's Pissing Everyone Off, One-Sided Relationship, Overuse of the word ‘fag’ and ‘faggot’, Rejection, Secret Relationship, Teasing, it's ok tho, the only ‘good’ thing that happens to Matt this whole fic, we all hate Matt around here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-01-13 12:03:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18468574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AronKBurns/pseuds/AronKBurns, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wineandweens/pseuds/wineandweens
Summary: Charlie Scene and Johnny 3 Tears are fake boyfriends. But what happens when it becomes more than just a joke for one of them?





	1. Oh No, How’d I Sink So Low?

“Are you guys planning on releasing another DVD like you did with _ Desperate Measures _ back in the day?” There was a pause in speaking between the interviewer and her interviewees; Charlie was the first to lean in, ready to answer when a pair of lips pressed delicately to the side of his snapback, making the rapper lose his train of thought. He grinned meekly in response, not bothering to look up when George weakly apologized. “So, you guys are an item?” the French Canadian interviewer then asked with a smile, changing the subject of the previous question to the quick and sudden gesture the pair shared. 

She held the microphone out closer in between Charlie and George, looking between the two as they just smiled at each other. “Yeah, we sure are,” Charlie spoke with a chuckle into the mic, moving his arms to wrap around the larger male and giving his broad shoulders a tight squeeze. He hoisted himself up nearly on his toes to reach George’s height, giving him his own gift of a kiss against George’s stubbled cheek. “Aw! So sweet!” 

Much of the rest of the interview was carried out in this fashion, Charlie’s arm draped across George’s shoulder, the younger man finding ways or moments in between George’s answering to sneak a kiss against his shoulder or cheek. They were fake boyfriend’s after all, so he had to shower his “boyfriend” with affection for the cameras. In fact, their pretend relationship went beyond just flaunting for interviews, but flaunting for anyone and everywhere. 

“That’s exactly what it looked like when I sucked his cock last night.” Charlie pointed out to the rest of their bandmates as George was in the process of popping a pizza crust past his parted lips. George smirked, pulling the piece of food back out of his mouth to hold it out, allowing for all to see the long length of the crust. “Yeah, my cock is huge compared to this though,” George smirked. “I almost deepthroated the whole fucking thing. Almost,” Charlie nodded matter-of-factly. “Practice always makes perfect, babe,” George winked. The group laughed as the two went back and forth, the guys trying to enjoy their quick lunch before having to head back to the venue to perform that evening. Playing several upcoming shows in the province of Quebec, they at least had one day off after their gig that evening to be able to explore Montreal and what the city had to offer. 

“Hey faggot, hands off! I get the last slice!” Charlie leaned across the table, smacking the final slice of pizza out of Matt’s grabby hands and taking it for himself. Matt huffed, furrowing his brows. “Fuck you, who’s the real faggot here anyway? I’m not the one bragging about eating a dick,” the curly haired man challenged, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms in front of his chest like a sulking child. “Don’t be jealous, me and Jonathan just have something special. No homo, right?” Charlie smiled, bringing an arm up and around George’s shoulders, turning his head to look up at the other blue-eyed man. “Yeah. No homo,” George repeated, gently shaking his head as he crunched down on the last bit of his crust.

“God… here we go again…” Danny sighed out as Charlie and Matt began bickering between each other, Matt still slighted by Charlie’s offensive name calling. It was the same routine -  Matt getting genuinely upset by Charlie’s mundane insults, while the rapper only found pure amusement and pleasure from getting the older male riled up. The rest of the guys watched the verbal argument play out, while George sat in silence, trapped within his own thoughts. He completely blocked out the rapper and screamer’s back and forth yelling, replaying Charlie’s earlier words in his head over and over.  _ No homo.  _ Silently and confidently, he changed his answer. _ No, definitely homo, Jordon.  _ He eyed his loudmouthed fake boyfriend, a soft smile appearing across his facial features as he admired every little thing about him. 

After managing to tear the two apart and leave the small local pizza shop without any casualties, the guys began their short walk back towards the nearby bus, conveniently parked in the lot of that evening’s gig. “You really shouldn’t pick on Matty, Jordon,” George spoke in his words-of-wisdom tone of voice, an arm draped across Charlie’s shoulders, while the other man hooked his own arm around George’s middle. Charlie sighed, grinning as he looked over his shoulder at the drummer who only stared daggers in his direction. “It’s so hard not to. With that dumbass haircut and that stupid fuckin’ stage presence, and y’know, being a fa—” Charlie was cut off from his next word of choice, George covering his mouth with his hand and shooting him a pleading look with his eyes. “Not that there’s anything  _ wrong _ with that,” George urged. Charlie smiled behind George’s hand, giving the palm a quick kiss. George pulled his hand away then, returning the soft smile “No, of course not,” Charlie confirmed with a shrug, looking back over his shoulder again. Matt’s nose was down deep in the screen of his phone, an irritated look on his face while pretending he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation ahead of him. An evil look returned to Charlie’s face, corners of his lips curving inward “...Unless you’re Da Kurlzz.” 

“Fuck you, asshole!” 

\---

“If you got Jack in your cup, go raise it up!” Charlie drunkenly sang aloud, raising his own glass filled with alcohol to his accompanying bandmates, the six of them piled together in the middle of a crowded Montreal night club. After another successfully sold out gig, it was only fitting to celebrate in style rather than just drinking at the small hotel bar. “Does vodka count?’ George joked, raising his glass in the air to match Charlie’s. Danny and Dylan were already lost in the crowd of dancers, Jorel standing nearby nursing a bottle of beer, while Matt tweeted away. 

Looking up from his illuminated screen, Matt glanced in between George and Jorel. “Uhh… I’m not going to be the one to babysit him,” the screamer commented, pointing in the direction that Charlie took off in, cup still high in the air as he pushed through the crowd. “Not me,” Jorel called next, bringing his beer up to his lips, taking a long drawn-out sip. “ _ Fiiiine _ .” George sighed as he rolled his eyes sarcastically, taking his leave from the two others so he could keep tabs on their drunk rapper. Internally, he was completely alright with fetching his fake boyfriend. Maybe it would finally give him his chance to have some alone time with the other male. While he enjoyed their little “joke,” he could no longer deny that it wasn’t so much a joke for him anymore. There was something there; something more. He had to know if Charlie felt it, too.

George weaved through the large clusters of dancers and drinkers, following the beacon that was Charlie’s rocks glass, which was somehow still being held up high in the air. Smiling wide as George finally caught up to his younger friend, the smile only faltered when the sight of the rapper grinding and dancing up against a small slender brunette came into full view. His jaw set. Taking a step towards the dancing pair, George tapped on the girl’s shoulder, feigning a kind smile. “I’ll take him from here, miss.” Without giving either time to respond, George took hold of Charlie’s arm, the larger man pulling him away. Charlie let out a drunken whine in the process; “What’d you do that for?! I was gonna get laid!” Charlie pouted, tugging his arm out of George’s grip, bringing his glass of whiskey to his lips. “No, you weren’t,” George chuckled, shaking his head as Charlie downed the rest of his drink, simply dropping the glass to the floor afterward, no fucks given.

It didn’t take long for Charlie to forget about his ‘missed opportunity’ of the evening, the rapper beginning to dance only moments later as he moved to close the gap between him and his fellow bandmate. “Dance with me, Jonathan!” Charlie grinned, arms raising to wrap around the taller man’s neck. “Don’t make me dance, Jordon,” George spoke bluntly, though unable to control himself from placing his hands against Charlie’s sides, allowing the other to press against him. He could feel his cheeks warm up as Charlie moved in front of him, their hips meeting at least at one point during Charlie’s drunken movements. 

George looked around at his surroundings as he kept his hands firm against Charlie’s sides; He spotted Danny and Dylan, the two dancing together, both displaying some of their own very questionable dance moves. They were  _ almost _ as bad as Charlie’s moves. He was also able to spot Jorel and Matt, Jay helping Matt pick something out of his overly curly hair— _ What the hell was that?  _ Something poked him, making him turn his gaze back down to the man directly in front of him, stepping back a bit when he noticed blue eyes were staring directly up at him. “What?” George bit, raising a brow. “I have a boner.”

“What the fuck, dude?” George gulped, taking a large step back away from his friend’s hips, though not going far with Charlie’s arms still wrapped around his neck. Charlie pouted, “I can't fucking help it, you’re so buff. You’re one sexy motherfucker.” The larger male could only let out a nervous chuckle, rolling his eyes.  _ God, this hurts. _ “I’ve always liked you, Jonathan. Like,  _ liiiike _ you.” George would’ve been lying if he denied that a whirlwind of butterflies were in the pit on his stomach then. “Yeah, well, you’re also drunk as shit,” George reasoned. 

Charlie tightened his grip around George’s neck, pulling him closer again. “Don’t you like me, Jonathan?” Charlie cooed out, George stood there silently for a moment, idly chewing on the inside of his cheek. “We should… go find the others.” George responded, looking up and around for their bandmates, who had since moved from their most recent sightings. Bringing attention back to Charlie, he found their faces mere inches from each other. “Don’t you want to kiss me, Johnny?” Charlie continued, arms trying to pull George closer.  _ Of course I fucking want to, but I’m not taking advantage of you. _ George sighed, shaking his head as he moved a hand from Charlie’s side to take hold of his arm, tugging at it. “Let’s go, Jord—“

Silenced by Charlie, the gap between their lips ceased; tongues touched. Unable to think straight anymore, George kissed back, completely forgetting about making an escape to find the others.


	2. Call the Doc, I Must Be Sick

It was far past two in the afternoon when everybody’s favorite rapper finally emerged from his bunk, donning messy bed hair while sporting a t-shirt and basketball shorts. Charlie let out a long exaggerated yawn, scratching at the unkept scruff that inched down his neck. “What up?” he greeted, plopping down on the couch in between Jorel and George with a thud. 

“Good afternoon, sunshine.” Jay snorted, swiping at the rapper’s overgrown hair. “Dude, you really gotta cut that shit. You’re growing a mullet,” he teased. Charlie rolled his eyes, wrapping his arm around George’s shoulders. “My boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind.” The blue eyed bassist visibly tensed up, “Boyfriend?” _You mean his kiss - his words - was actually real? _A grin grew on George’s face before Charlie spoke again; “Oh right, you like it better when I call you daddy.” George chuckled, the comment going over his head. He moved his right hand to press against Charlie’s thigh, rubbing against it slowly. Charlie eyed the touch; while they overtly touched and kissed, this was a touch he never received from George before. He simply dismissed it though, allowing the touch to continue—it wasn’t really that out of their norm anyway.__

__“So we have a day off today, right?” Charlie spoke, letting his head fall against the back of the couch. “We going to get food or what?” Sitting nearby, Matt sighed, looking up from his phone and giving Charlie a look. “Maybe if your ass was up 4 hours ago, you could’ve come with us.” Charlie pouted, groaning out. “You assholes fucking went and ate without me?” George gently nudged at Charlie’s side with an elbow. “I tried waking you. You sleep like the dead.” Still pouting, Charlie sighed as he looked up at George, “Thanks for the effort, I guess.” George chuckled, leaned in to press a kiss to Charlie’s cheek. “You’re worth the effort.” The rapper felt his round cheeks warm up, though raised an eyebrow in question to the statement. “Okay, weirdo,” he laughed, playing it off as he looked back at the others._ _

__“Okay, so since food is out of the question, what are we gonna do today?” Charlie continued, making eye contact with Matt again. “Well, I don’t know what _you _are going to do, but while you slept the morning away, we all got tickets to see the basilica for this afternoon. Sucks to be you.” Matt answered in a snarky tone as he looked back down at his phone, Charlie wrinkling his nose in response. “Wow, you’re more dickish today than usual. Did George hide your cocoa butter lotion again?” George laughed out, shaking his head as he chimed in to diffuse another impending argument, “It’s no big deal. I’ll just stay behind with Charlie. We’ll find something to do together.” Charlie snorted, giving George a teasing jab to the side with his elbow. “Hell yeah, you _know _we will. Right, Jonathan?” George’s stomach suddenly started to flutter with butterflies again, the larger male gulping as he leaned over to speak into Charlie’s ear. “Really, babe? You want it already?” His voice was low, pulling away then to flash Charlie a confident smile. The rapper frowned slightly, scooching away a bit._____ _

______“Guys! Come on, we gotta leave - we’re gonna be late!” Jorel groaned impatiently as he moved further towards the bus door. He was the most excited out of the bunch to see the landmark; being super into old cathedrals and architecture, Jorel couldn’t help but to nerd out about getting to finally see St Joseph’s Basilica up close - his current Quebec tour dream. Matt got up from the couch and glanced at the two staying behind. “Bye, bitches.” He spoke in his raspy voice, seemingly quite happy about leaving Charlie’s presence. Flicking a middle finger at the drummer, Charlie grinned, proud that he still managed to get the final word in their daily bickering. “Take plenty of pictures,” the rapper called out as Danny, Jorel, Dylan, and Matt all left the bus together, leaving him and George alone for the rest of the afternoon._ _ _ _ _ _

______Charlie yawned once more and stretched, his arms reaching high above his head, “So. What’d ya wanna do, George?” He then asked with a grin, his arms lazily falling back down and into his lap. The blue eyed bassist smiled as he gently took Charlie’s hands into his own. “Well, I was kinda hoping we could...” he rubbed his thumb over the rapper’s knuckles as he leaned in closer, “...pick up where we were last night?” Charlie took a moment to blink, his face contorting in confusion. “What?” It came out harsher than the rapper intended but that wasn’t his main focus. He was genuinely confused as fuck. “Dude, there’s no one here, why’re you still…?” George’s confidence shrank a bit, but he pushed through; maybe Charlie was playing shy. “You don’t remember? Last night. We kissed, Jordon. You told me that you liked me. You just called me your boyfriend.” Charlie took his hands back. “Yeah, I also just called you daddy, what’s your point?” Ice suddenly filled George’s feet. “But we kissed—“ “Like we usually do. It’s a joke, George,” Charlie finished for him. Shaking his head, George persisted, “But you said you liked me, Jordon. You said you always had. You asked if I liked you too and well, I—I do.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Charlie made a face, holding his hands out as if they were some kind of defense shield between him and the other man. “Woah, woah… you’re reading way too much into this, dude. It’s a joke, it always has been a joke. I’m always saying and doing shit when I’m drunk, you know this. You know our bromance is my favorite _joke _.” George stood up, “But—“ he paused as if trying to collect his speeding thoughts. “Jordon, I like you. I like you a lot and I thought...I thought you liked me too.” He felt like he was on the brink of shutting down. The rapper sighed, “Look, I’m sorry I gave you the wrong idea last night, but I was drunk. Whatever I said, I was joking. You might like guys, but I… I don’t.” He couldn’t look at George; the man looked too broken for him to handle.___ _ _ _ _ _

________George’s shoulders slowly slumped as he was coming into a realization of what Charlie was telling him. And yet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the rapper, even when the other found it so much easier to do. George went silent, retreating into his thoughts; _God, you look really fucking stupid right now, George. How could you really think he was being serious last night? He was drunk. But… that kiss. That kiss didn’t feel like just some drunken kiss. That kiss felt like it fucking meant something. Drunk or not - that kiss was real. I know it was. There’s something there. _____ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Coming back into the now, George held an emotionless appearance, blue eyes trailing across the features of his friend as if trying to read him. Clenching his fists, George stepped in front of Charlie to reconnect their eye contact, the bassist leaning down to press his lips flush to the others. “Look me in the face and tell me you don’t feel anything,” George spoke as he pulled back from the touch, staring Charlie down. “I—“ Charlie began, his own shoulders beginning to slump a bit as he recoiled from George and the kiss that took place. “I’m sorry, George. I can’t return your feelings.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________George growled, “You can't or you won’t?” He pulled the rapper against him, kissing him roughly. Charlie flinched, allowing the touch to last mere seconds before pushing George back, having to use some strength to move the much larger man backwards. “George, stop! I’m not a fucking faggot, alright?!” Charlie yelled out, immediately regretting his words as he watched them go straight into his best friend, wounding him. George said nothing as he stepped away, grabbing his coat and cigarettes from the side table and leaving the bus in a hurry, door slamming behind him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Charlie stood all alone, the silence he was left in near deafening. Staring at his bare feet against the bus’s thin carpeting, his head spun with so many different thoughts, just trying to comprehend everything that just happened between him and George. There was only one thought that stood out amongst the rest. He blinked once, taken back from the realization. Bringing a hand up to his face, he gently allowed his fingertips to slowly touch at his lips: He realized just how much he loved the feeling of George against them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________\----_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________George didn’t really know where he was going, but he knew he couldn’t stay in that bus with Charlie any longer. Another second in there and he would’ve exploded. He groaned, bowing his head down and scraping his nails against his scalp. “Fuck, man, what’re you doing with yourself?” He mumbled aloud to himself, hands fumbling for his cigarette and lighter to quickly light up. He sighed out a heavy cloud of smoke, progressing down the street and further away from Charlie. He felt as though his nerves were shot; his head raced and his hands shook. But worst of all, the rejection made his heart ache. He was so sure - no, he was so confident that there was something there between he and the rapper. Their relationship was unique; unlike any other. As Forrest Gump would say, like peas and carrots. George took another stressful drag from his cigarette, wanting to erase the agonizing replay in his head: just the way Charlie looked at him; the way Charlie spoke to him, denying everything._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“George?” A familiar voice called out, George quickly picking his head up from the view of kicking rocks as he power-walked. “Hey Danny,” the bassist greeted in a low, discouraged voice. “I thought you were out with the others?” Picking up on George’s tone instantly, Danny’s face shifted from a bright smile to a concerned frown, approaching George. “I forgot something at the bus. Is...there something wrong? Weren’t you supposed to be hanging out with Jordon?” George couldn't stop his face from contorting, he bit down on his tongue. “I needed… space.” His head was down as to hide his shame. Danny stepped closer to the heartbroken man, setting his hand down gently on George’s shoulder, “What's going on? Did you and Jordon get into some kind of fight? You know how he gets on tour, always restless even if he doesn't act like it—” George cut off the blonde’s tangent, “We kissed, Danny.” The singer raised his brow, giving a shrug of his shoulder. “Okay, so? You guys are kiss all the time.” George groaned, shaking his head, “No, we fucking _kissed _, Danny! With tongue!” Danny shifted awkwardly, “Oh, okay… go on...” George paused before continuing, his body hunching as he stood. He took another long draw from his cigarette, tossing it to the ground afterwards. “He told me he liked me, and we kissed. Well, he kissed me and I kissed him back. And now he’s saying it was all just a big fucking joke… that it didn’t mean anything at all.” George’s frown dropped lower, blue eyes casting down to the ground. “I know that kiss wasn’t a goddamn joke, Danny! He may had been drunk but he wasn’t that drunk. It felt so… real. I even told him I liked him too, but he just pushed it aside like it was no big deal.” George felt that hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach grow, the despair of rejection just eating away at him.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“So, wait, you’re… gay? And Jordon...?” Danny asked quietly, tilting his head to the side. “Is that all you got from that? Christ, Danny,” George scowled, bringing a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “No. Look, George, I’m no love expert by any stretch of the means...” Danny spoke, looking to redeem himself, “...But you know Jordon better than any of us. He’s pretty good at hiding his true emotions. Maybe he just needs time, or needs to feel comfortable in his own skin before showing any of his true intentions,” Danny shrugged, “In any case, sit him down and tell him how you really feel. Make him listen. If he can’t appreciate a good guy in front of him or if he’s just finding joy in messing with your emotions, then maybe... pursuing something more with him isn’t the best idea.” Danny reached out to give George another reassuring pat on the shoulder. George feigned a small smile, wanting to at least show Danny that he appreciated the effort in trying to make him feel better. Even if he missed the dot. “Yeah. Thanks, Dan.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Lighting up a new cigarette, George held it between pursed lips as he lit the end, beginning to trek back down the road. “Hey, where are you going?” Danny called out from where he stood, watching his friend and bandmate depart in the opposite direction of the bus._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I need a drink.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	3. Even When I Hate It, I Still Wanna Like It

“He’s been out for a long time…” Danny sighed, looking down at the watch worn around his wrist. It had been hours since the group of four came back from their Montreal excursion, meaning it had been at least that many hours since Danny’s run-in with George around the block. “What the hell did you do to piss him off so badly, dipshit?” Matt glared over at Charlie, who remained silent from where he sat, his arms folded in front of his chest. The rapper cast his eyes down to his lap, chewing idly at his lower lip; he could feel Danny’s eyes on him. Just by the way Danny was looking at him, he knew that the blonde must’ve known something regarding his and George’s earlier argument. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” Jorel chimed in, not even looking up from the LED screen on his digital camera, reviewing all of the photographs he had taken at the basilica earlier on in the day. “Otherwise, we’ll be sending you out to look for him, Jordon...” Danny finished, giving Charlie one last look before retiring himself from the back lounge where all were gathered. 

Sitting beside Charlie, Dylan smirked, “What? Troubles in paradise with your _booooyfriend?_ ” he playfully mused, jabbing at the rapper’s side with a sharp elbow. “Shut the hell up, man!” Charlie damn near barked, making the younger one flinch. “Yo, bro! Calm down…Funny Man was just making a joke,” Dylan defended himself, leaning away from the other with wide eyes, hands held out as protection. “May I remind you that you _aren’t_ funny?” Charlie narrowed his eyes, ultimately moving and standing up from his spot on the couch, “I’ll be in my bunk.” Charlie excused himself, feeling agitated by the feeling of literally being ganged up on by his other bandmates. He didn’t need to take any of their shit; he didn’t do anything wrong. _Right?_

Charlie laid flat on his back in his bunk, curtain drawn shut as his blue eyes stared up at the darkness of the bunk ceiling. He could still hear a few of his bandmates from the nearby back lounge make conversation, but for the most part, it had sounded like everyone was either already, or beginning to head to their bunks for the rest of the night. The guitarist let out a deep sigh, his hand lifting up from behind his head to touch at his lips again. George. He felt a small smile grow across his features as he thought about the touch; how soft George’s were against his own. The thought only lasted seconds, as Charlie quickly shook his head, dismissing the thoughts from the confines of his mind. _Jesus Christ, Jordon, what is wrong with you?_ Using his hand, he dragged the palm down the length of his face. Why was he feeling this way? Was there an internal Jordon that knew something that he didn’t all this time? Or an external Jordon that was working overtime to conceal the internal Jordon? Charlie shook his head again. This was just way too much fucking thinking that he could handle for one night. 

Charlie wasn’t sure when he had dozed off, but he was startled awake by the sound of the bus door opening and closing shut. It had to be late, considering all was quiet throughout the whole tour bus. There was really no way of telling what time it was, but Charlie really couldn’t be bothered knowing. Not hearing much else after the sound of the door, Charlie yawned, his eyes easily falling closed again as he tried to fall back asleep. “Jordon!” A loud whisper sounded out; Charlie jumped, his eyes shooting back open to find George’s head sticking through the closed bunk curtain. “Fuck, George, you scared me,” Charlie sighed out, feigning a heart attack by holding a hand to his chest. “Lemme come in,” the older man whispered. Charlie raised a brow, easily able to pick up a strong scent of whiskey coming off his bandmate. “What for?” he asked, treading cautiously. “Cuddles.” 

Charlie sighed, laying back down to stare up at the ceiling of his bunk, “No, George. I already told you, I—” George grunted then, rolling his eyes in the dark. “Dude. We fucking cuddled before any of this shit even came up. Stop making such a big deal about it and let me in.” He spoke in a stern voice, seemingly so collected despite the amount of alcohol he had likely consumed. George did have a point; Charlie didn’t argue further, scooting all the way to the back wall of his bunk to make room for the much larger male. George hastily climbed in, clearly off-balanced for a moment as he finally got his whole body inside the small living quarters, filling up the rest of the unoccupied space inside. It was a tight squeeze, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t hung out in each other’s bunk before in the past. George let out a sigh of content, shifting his body against Charlie’s and nonchalantly draped his arm over the guitarist’s waist. “Isn’t this nice?” George breathed out against Charlie’s neck, his warm breath tickling the skin. Chuckling nervously, Charlie put his own arm around the frame of the bassist. “How much did you drink?” He asked, tilting his head in a way to try and look George in the face despite the darkness inside of the bunk; at least his eyes were adjusting more and more as the moments passed by. “Lots,” George grinned, his perfect teeth most certainly able to be seen in the shadows.

“Hey, George?” Charlie frowned slightly, his hand giving George’s shoulder a pat. A simple hum was heard from the other man, his weight seemingly shifting more and more against the rapper. “I just wanted to… apologize. You know, for earlier…” he began, casting his eyes off to the side, looking at nothing in particular. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. And I wanted you to know that I’m totally cool with you liking guys an’ all.” Charlie gave a sincere smile, looking back at the bassist, who was more or less listening. “I mean, I guess there was bound to be one of us who were into dudes. I always just assumed it was Kurlzz.” George chuckled at the statement, eyes rolling as his hand rubbed against Charlie’s side. The rapper sighed, “I just don’t want it to be weird between us, got it? I don’t like cock, but I want to keep pretend sucking yours.” 

The bassist laughed, a drunken smile plastered on his face. “So, we’re still fake boyfriends?” George asked for confirmation, Charlie giving a strong nod. “Mm. Fake boyfriends.” Leaning in, George pressed a kiss to Charlie’s cheek, a friendly ‘fake boyfriend’ kiss that they shared far too many times to count. Only this time, Charlie could feel that spot on his round cheek heat up, grateful for his scruff and the darkness of the bunk to conceal the unwelcomed blush creeping into his flesh. George dropped his heavy head then to tuck into the crook of Charlie’s neck, cuddling back up against the smaller man to resume the late night cuddle session. 

Suddenly, George’s tattooed hands moved against Charlie’s body, the rapper tensing, but still allowed for the touch to happen. “I miss your chub,” George chuckled, mumbling against Charlie’s neck as his hand hovered near the helm of the other’s shirt, popping his hand inside to innocently pat at the slimmer stomach there. George’s hand was warm to the touch, heat spreading all across his skin and causing the younger man to swallow down a lump in his throat; his legs were tense. “I knew you were into plumpers,” Charlie quietly teased, falling silent when he felt the sudden sensation of kissing against his neck. “Uh...G-George?” the guitarist stuttered in question, his eyes involuntarily shutting as lips trailed kisses all the way to his throat, until the older male was nipping at his adam’s apple. George’s hand moved further up underneath Charlie’s shirt, burning the skin at his chest as his palm and fingertips rubbed all around. A shaky moan sounded inside the silent bunk - Charlie’s moan. 

Charlie could feel his face turn beet red then, realizing that the sound of pleasure escaped from his own lips. God, _his_ lips! Picking his head up in response to the noise, George smirked as he looked down at his bandmate, slowly moving in so that their parted lips were only an agonizing inches apart. Charlie laid there, unable to move, unable to speak as blue eyes met blue eyes. Why wasn’t he putting a stop to this? Was he _enjoying_ this? George’s hand trailed back down the course of Charlie’s torso, down to his stomach and loitered dangerously low near the elastic band of his basketball shorts. It was when lips were about to collide when Charlie reached up, pushing his hands up against George’s chest. 

“You… have to go.” George tilted his head in confusion. “Cuddle session over. Out. Now.” Charlie hastily spat, giving George’s chest another push until the drunken bassist was rolling out of the bunk through the curtains. Charlie didn’t move until he heard shuffling and the weight of George climbing into his own bunk. Snoring began only moments later, joining the other light snores that filled the bunk lounge. The rapper groaned, concerned eyes peeking down the length of his laid out body as a hand moved to grab in between his legs where a hard boner had formed. _Fuck_. Charlie was already leaking at the tease George gave him. He looked to the side as he slid down his shorts and briefs, not wanting to feel the shame his stiffy represented. He shook his head; _I’m not dealing with this shit right now_. Charlie reached to the back wall by his pillow, grabbing a roll of toilet paper he had stashed behind it. He wiped up the precum that dripped from his head, satisfied once it was dry. His boxers were still wet though; _fuck it, I’m not gonna sleep in messed undies_. Kicking off and discarding the stained clothing, Charlie rolled onto his side and ignored his ache, not even bothering to cover up with a blanket. 

_This was going to be a long night._

\----

“I’m not waking him,” the drummer deadpanned. “Nobody fuckin’ asked you to, Matt. Quit being a narcissist,” Jorel shot back, shaking his head in agitation. The drummer was getting on mostly everyone’s nerves lately, the guy’s either talking shit and being annoying _or_ on his phone talking shit and being annoying. There really was no happy median. “You didn’t even thank me for helping you get that damn condom out of your hair at the club the other night!” Jay growled, Matt groaned and yelling back in response, “I told you not to fucking mention that to anyone, asshole!” 

“So, what time did you get back last night, George? I didn’t hear you come in at all.” Danny commented, speaking over the two as he tried to change the subject before Matt made any more enemies on the bus. George shrugged as he looked up from the book he was reading, “Honestly, I don’t remember. Maybe around 11?” George closed the book in front of him, sighing as he rubbed at his eyes. He had a bit of a hangover, so his head throbbed from Jorel and Matt’s bickering. “How was the church?” Jorel pulled his attention away from Matt, his eyes lighting up with delight. “Fucking amazing!” He gleamed, “The 280 steps we climbed just to get to the top was a good workout too!” Dylan groaned from where he sat, half a banana shoved in his mouth, “Yeah, thanks for telling us after we agreed to go with you. My legs are still burning!” Matt snorted, speaking under his breath, “He’s a dick like that…” Jay turned his head back towards Matt, opening his mouth to speak. “Hey, fu—” George interjected, standing up from the couch. He really couldn’t be bothered to hear another argument. “I’m… going to go check on Sir Charlie.” Dylan nodded in agreement, turning to get a better view of the show unfolding in front of him. Danny sighed, putting on his headphones to zone out another fight.

Stopping at his bunk first - the bunk directly adjacent to Charlie’s - George delicately put away his book, knowing not to leave it out for any of the other’s to possibly touch. He was possessive of his books, almost obsessively compulsive when it came to making sure the pages had no bends or creases. It was safe with all of the others, tucked away in the makeshift bookshelf he had inside the cubby of his bunk. George turned around to face Charlie’s bunk, the grey curtain still drawn shut from the night before. The bassist couldn’t help but to suddenly grow smug, remembering that distinct moan from yesterday all too well. _I fuckin’ knew he felt something too_. “Rise and shine, sweetheart,” George cooed out, waiting a few short seconds before drawing the bunk curtain open to reveal the guitarist inside. Eyes went wide as they trailed across Charlie’s sleeping figure facing him - a nearly naked figure; the only item saving him from total nudity was the plain white shirt he was wearing. He certainly wasn’t in that state last night when George left the bunk; no, he’d remember. _Are those… tissues?_

The bright lights of the bus hallway in contrast to his once dark bunk space caused Charlie to slowly begin to stir awake, blinking sleepy blue eyes open to the view of George staring back at him. “George..?” Charlie muttered in a groggy voice, only to remember the state of indecency he was in. “G-George!” he panicked, grabbing at his bunk sheets in an effort to cover his lower half. George chuckled softly, giving him a smile. “Good afternoon, sleeping beauty. We have a gig tonight, remember? You need to get up. I suggest putting some pants on first, though.” The rapper blushed hard as he tore his vision away from the other man, holding the blanket tightly over his unmentionables. George raised his brow, an amused look on his face. “You know you didn’t have to kick me out last night. I could’ve helped you with that.” Charlie quickly shook his head, cheeks glowing an even darker shade of red now. “It’s not what it looks like... I mean, it’s not that you think— I wasn’t...no, I definitely didn’t… I—” 

George laughed, tilting his head to the side as he studied the man. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re embarrassed,” George spoke softly, reaching a hand out to flirtatiously brush his hand through Charlie’s overgrown locks of hair. “Come on, get up. We have soundcheck in a few hours.” With that, George slid the curtain closed again, leaving Charlie. He smiled to himself brightly, beaming inside and out, especially when he heard a groan of embarrassment behind him. 

Charlie sulked in bed for a few more moments before sitting up and grabbing a new pair of boxers, pushing the used ones into a laundry bag on the side, and pulling on the same shorts from the day before. The rapper emerged from the bunk room and into the front lounge where he was greeted by the sight and sounds of their drummer being petty with their bassist. “I can tweet what I want, it’s a free country!” Matt shot. Jorel rolled his eyes, “None of our fans follow your Twitter to hear your dumbass political opinions, keep it to your fucking self like the rest of us.” “You’re just mad cause I’m right. It’s not my fault we’ve got a few snowflakes as fans.” Charlie was not amused. At least the argument kept him from feeling embarrassed about being caught with his pants down earlier. “Fuckin’ can it, Matty, before Jay puts his dick down your throat and makes you,” Charlie retorted, going into the mini fridge to scavenge for food, “But then again... you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” 

Matt scoffed, opening his mouth to speak before feeling a hand press against his shoulder. “Cool it, man. Just leave it.” George spoke collectively, being the voice of reason between the six members. Shaking George’s hand off, the curly haired man only narrowed his eyes in Charlie’s direction. “Go ahead and keep calling me a fag. But don’t think I didn’t hear you and George getting freaky last night.” Charlie stood up straight from his hunched position looking far back into the fridge, raising his brow at the statement. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” He responded, eyes shifting in between Matt and George. “So you weren’t the one moaning like a little bitch in the bunk directly above mine?” 

Charlie tried to play it cool; there was no way he was going to admit anything. “Nah man, you must’ve just been having a wet dream about me again,” he said, shutting the door of the fridge and just settling on eating cereal. Matt looked around at the rest of his bandmates, “Seriously? None of you didn’t fucking hear them last night?” When all he received were blank stares and no back up, Matt groaned, moving from where he sat to leave the front lounge, “Whatever, I know what I heard.” Even if anyone else had heard something, which they didn’t, it wasn’t like they were going to jump in and defend Matt then and there - not after his latest social media stunt. Charlie hid his sigh of relief behind his spoonful of Cheerios. The feeling of embarrassment still resided however, especially now knowing that Matt had definitely heard his sinful slip up. He could also feel George’s eyes on him. He casually popped the spoon in his mouth, concealing his conflicting thoughts. _Why couldn’t last night have been just one really fucked up, yet... one totally hot as hell dream?_


	4. Oh No, No, I Can’t Fight It

Charlie was unusually quiet during their interview that was scheduled before their sold out gig in Quebec City. While the rapper would normally sit front and center, right next to George and answer nearly every single question, he was now seated at the end, two band members away from his fake boyfriend. He was silent with his arms folded in front of his chest, staring out into space during most of the questions, letting the others take the reins on responding. It didn’t go unnoticed by the bassist, George leaning forward every so often to look past Jorel and Dylan, gazing in Charlie’s direction. He could tell that Charlie was deep in thought; troubled almost. Even when George  _ tried _ to engage Charlie with flirtatious responses, he wasn’t getting much out of him. Most the time, he’d almost always get an accompanied response when they boasted their imaginary relationship on camera, but Charlie seemingly wasn’t having any of it that evening.

Once the cameras were turned off and the interviewer departed from the location, George watched as his four other band mates also left on their own accord. He waited until he and Charlie were alone, the older man approaching the rapper and putting a hand on his shoulder from behind to turn him around to face him. “Hey, what was that about? You okay?” the bassist questioned with a raised brow, trying to read the rapper’s face. Charlie averted his blue eyes from looking into the other’s, just giving him a shrug. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Charlie muttered, reaching up to take a hold of George’s wrist, removing the larger man’s hold on his shoulder. His eyes went slightly wide as he felt hands gently press against his waist, pulling him in close to the other’s body. “Is this about earlier? Last night? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” George continued, speaking quietly as a hand reaching up to push awkwardly long strands of hair back from Charlie’s round face. The rapper gulped, tensing when he felt the warmth of George’s body against his own.  _ It felt so nice. _ Reaching his hands up and pressing them against George’s chest, Charlie used all of the willpower he could muster to gently push himself out of his friend’s embrace. “George, please...” he began, still unable to fully look George in the eyes as he fought to get the words out of his mouth. “...please don’t touch me.” 

George blinked in confusion, the feeling of earlier rejection sneaking back into the pit of his stomach as he looked at the troubled rapper. “Why’re you…” he started, stopping to take another step closer to Charlie, Charlie responding by taking another step back. “You said you didn’t want it to be weird between us. You’re making it weird.” The rapper let out a frustrated groan, “ _ I'm _ not making it weird,  _ you're _ making it weird.” He accused poorly, holding his hands out as a protective barrier between them. “I’m just… I’m not into that, alright? I’m not into you.” Charlie lied through his own teeth, hands then fumbling in his pockets for his pack of cigarettes, suddenly feeling the urge to smoke the stress away. George frowned, brows furrowing. “Why are you fighting this, Jordon? We both know—” “You don’t know shit!” Charlie barked back as he finally felt no other option but to push past George, making sure to bump shoulders and arms as he passed by. He left the backstage area then, leaving George to stand there alone in the empty room - bewildered as to what just happened.

Aside from the interview, the show that night went without a hitch. However, while the crowd couldn’t tell, the band could feel the obvious rift that was occurring between their frontman and bassist. Charlie said a final goodbye to the Quebec City crowd, speaking his worst French into the microphone before taking one last final bow and leaving the stage with the rest of his band members. “What’s going on, Jordon?” Danny asked innocently as soon as they stepped off stage, Charlie ignoring the question as he took a towel from one of their techs and wiping the sweat from his face. The blonde turned to look at a broken George for answers, only then giving him a sympathetic look when he could tell how much this was affecting him. “Jord—“ the blonde began to speak out for George before being cut off; “I’m going to the club to get turnt the fuck up. Which of you losers are coming with?” Dylan was the first to chime in enthusiastically, throwing an arm around Charlie’s shoulder and throwing his beer bottle from stage up towards the sky. “Hell ya, Charlie! Comin’ in hot!” Hooking his own arm around Dylan’s waist, Charlie grinned, not before looking over his shoulder at George. Seeing the hurt on his face, Charlie’s smile slowly fell. He  _ had _ to distance himself from the bassist; these emotions he was suddenly feeling for him were just too much. Ignoring them and moving on really was the best for the both of them,  _ right?  _

\----

After changing, some showering after the gig, the five piled into the small nightclub that was situated only a few blocks from the venue. As long as they were back by bus curfew in order to leave for the next city, there was no harm in going out after a show night. Matt, still angry by the spat that morning, chose to stay behind, which was not argued by his other bandmates. He had to take care of damage control on his social media accounts, anyway. 

The nightclub was small, but was packed with partiers and the strobing lights paired well with the poppy dance music that played - Charlie’s kind of scene. After hitting the bar and grabbing a drink, Charlie ditched his friends in search of a dance partner. Dylan and Jorel disappeared together in the crowd, while Danny stood by with George, who was unsure why he even decided on coming along. The last thing he wanted to see was Charlie grinding on some bitch - just because he didn’t want to accept that there was something there between them.  _ What a fucking idiot. Maybe Danny was right. _ George frowned at the thoughts flowing through his head, taking a slow sip from his beer bottle as he leaned against the bartop. “You okay?” Danny asked over the music, bringing a hand up to supportively rub at George’s back. The larger male shrugged, taking another sip from the bottle before placing it back down. “I just don’t fucking get it, Danny. I thought—I mean, I know he feels something too but every time we get closer and closer, he just keeps pushing me away. Why’s he acting like this?” George sighed, turning to face Danny for his advice. “Young and stupid?” Danny proposed, offering a small smile. George shrugged, though managed to curl the corner of his lip upwards at the singer’s response. “Yeah… that’s Jordon, alright.” 

Danny let out a small sigh, the two of them looking over their shoulders towards the dance floor, where the rest of their bandmates were spotted. Charlie had found himself a small-framed blonde; Jorel jumped up and down to the music, while Dylan danced with himself, throwing out his best  _ unique _ styles of dancing. Danny watched Dylan, unable to keep a smile off of his face, laughing softly under his breath. “I don’t know, George. Sometimes it just takes time...” Danny began, as the two brought their attention back to each other. “Take me and Dylan, for instance. I—” “Wait, what? You and Dylan?” George cocked his head to the side, raising a brow. Danny brought a finger up to his lips, making a soft  _ Shhh _ noise as he did so. “When? For how long?” George questioned, surprised considering he had absolutely no idea the two were an item. Danny chuckled softly, leaning an elbow on the bartop, chin resting in the palm of his hand. “I don’t know, maybe a few months now? But it also took us a while to acknowledge it. It wasn’t easy. There were feelings that we both had to accept on our own, and then… we finally just... let it happen.” George blinked a couple of times, looking back at his beer bottle, that he was idly rotating around with his fingertips. “But what if Jordon never accepts it?” George asked, not really wanting to hear Danny’s response, though feeling a little bit better after their conversation. “Then, he’s missing out,” Danny smiled, George matching the smile with his own. “Thanks Dan.” “What we talkin’ about?” A buzzed Dylan appeared suddenly from behind, grinning as he stood between the two, arms going around each of their shoulders. “Oh nothing,” Danny grinned from ear to ear once the Latino appeared, turning his head and leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the taller man’s cheek. “Just talking about love.” Dylan grinned then, cheeks instantly turning to blush. 

Charlie moved his body to the beat of the music, his hands on the hips of the first cute blonde girl he could find alone in the crowd. She had to do as the distraction that he was so desperately wanting; _needing_ for that evening. But as much as he should have been enjoying their hips moving together in unison and her drunken giggle sounding out above the noise of the music, Charlie instead found his mind to be traveling elsewhere. For some reason, it didn’t _feel_ _right._ He shut his eyes tight and forced himself to kiss her neck as they danced together. Her body in between his arms didn’t feel _right_. Her skin beneath his lips didn’t feel _right_. Even her scent didn’t smell _right_. Every single aspect of the stranger didn’t feel right because the fact of the matter was, she wasn’t… _George._ As much as Charlie wanted to get wasted, blank his mind of every thought and emotion he had of George, he just couldn’t quite do it. It finally clicked then: He...liked George. He may even _loved_ George. All he could think about was _George_. He lifted his head from the woman’s neck, blue eyes staring forward as if he had come to some kind of ophiany. He had been treating the other man like complete shit the past couple days in order to just deny the feelings he harnessed deep instead. Only now, he realized that George was what he wanted and needed all this time. God, He was a complete asshole. 

Charlie’s hands instantly dropping from the stranger’s waist, taking a step back, though being stopped. The girl, with her arms around Charlie’s neck, cocked her head, raising an eyebrow at the sudden movement from her dance partner. “ Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” she asked, Charlie raising his own brow as the question; he didn’t know a lick of French. “I...uh… have to go,” he spoke, reaching up to peel arms off from around his neck, the rapper taking another step backwards and away from the confused French Canadian. “I have to find George…” the rapper spoke under his breath with a grimace, looking around the small club for any glimpse of the other man.  _ Where was he? _

George was now seated outside of the venue, crouching down as his back leaned up against the brick of the old exterior building. Considering the stuffiness and warmth from inside of the building, the chill outside felt good against his inked skin as he smoked a cigarette, the stick hanging loose from his pursed lips. Danny had joined him outside, the pair both smoking after having their heart to heart conversation at the bar. George was definitely feeling better about the situation, especially having knowing that Danny had been going through the same situation, only with Dylan. _ He wasn’t alone. _ Danny and Dylan had ended up with a happy ending, so why couldn't he and Charlie have the same outcome? George sighed out a breath of smoke, turning his head to face Danny beside him. “Dan?” The older man spoke, Danny bringing his own attention to George, smoke rolling off of his own lips as he hummed. “Thanks again,” George smiled, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “This would’ve been a hell of a lot harder to deal with if I didn’t have anyone to talk to about this.” 

Danny smiled, reaching an arm over to drape across George’s broad shoulders. “Don’t mention it. You and Charlie always did make a cute fake couple. You guys would be even cuter as a real couple.” George chuckled in response, leaning a head in against Danny’s shoulder, appreciating the encouragement. “Maybe we could even go on a double date.” Danny snorted, shaking his head. “You really want Jordon and Dylan together, especially during a double date?” “Yeah, good point.” While George and Danny idly chatted during their smoke break, Charlie stood at the doorway of the club, watching the two from afar. He found George - but not where he wanted to find him. In the embrace of their attractive singer? Charlie felt a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, finally tearing his eyes away from the two leaning against each other. Did George move on after how shitty he had treated him? The rapper sighed in defeat, pushing his hands into his pockets as he began to walk down the lit up foreign street, leaving the club and heading back to the bus on his own. 

“Has anyone else seen Jordon?” Dylan asked as he approached his bandmates at the entrance of the nightclub, their designated meeting place before departing to go back to the bus. “I must’ve circled the whole place three times now, and still no sign of him.” George frowned at the mention of their missing rapper, unable to keep from feeling concerned. He was usually the one who acted as their designated look out; of course it had to be the one night when he let his guard down that the rapper would just go and disappear on them. His blue eyes scanned around the crowded room, trying to catch at least some kind of glimpse of Charlie. “Did he... leave with that girl?” George reluctantly asked, biting down on his bottom lip as he asked, afraid of knowing the answer. Jorel shook his head, “Nah, man. I saw him ditch that girl like an hour ago.” George caught himself letting out a sigh of relief, despite it not bringing any more answers as to where Charlie could’ve been. “We have to be back in a half hour to meet curfew,” Danny sighed, looking down at his watch. “Should we...split up and look for him?” Dylan asked, looking in between Danny and George. “Do we really have any other choice?” George rushed to speak, as the four broke up in different directions. 

Twenty minutes went by of scorching the night club again, the four friends regrouped in front of the club. “Anything?” The bassist was feeling antsy, chewing on the tip of his thumb as a nervous tick while he waited for the others to respond. “Nothing.” Dylan pouted, the discouraging look of the Latino’s face causing Danny to wrap an arm around his shoulders in comfort. “I even found that chick he was dancing with earlier.” Jorel chimed in, giving a shrug. “She spoke in broken English, but apparently they were dancing one minute, and the next he just fuckin’ freaked out and high-tailed.” George looked to the ground. _Jordon, where are you?_ Digging into his pocket, Danny pulled out his cell phone. “Hold up…,” Danny then spoke, holding his phone out in front of his face as he paused to read the screen. “I just got a text from Matt. He’s back at the bus.” The four stared at the blonde, speechless. “ _Why’s Jordon moping like a little bitch? He strike out again?”_ Danny read the text aloud, George blinking in response. While he was relieved that Charlie was safe and was back at the bus all this time, he could feel his anger starting to get to him. Charlie should’ve known better than to just up and fucking leave without telling anyone - otherwise, they wouldn’t have had to waste the time looking for his ass in the first place. “I’ll kill him.” George groaned out, bringing a hand up to face palm. “Well, we have five minutes to get to the bus before it leaves without us. Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Danny spoke, shaking his head at the turn of events as he allowed Jorel and George to walk ahead of him. Taking the opportunity, Danny reached out then and took Dylan’s hand to hold from behind, smiling softly up at his boyfriend, the smile quickly returned. 

\----

Matt greeted the group from outside, leaning up against the wall of the bus as he took a final smoke for the night. “Where is he?” George asked in a stern voice, though joking as he punched a fist into the palm of his other hand. “Where do ya think? Bunk.” Matt responded simply, pulling the cigarette from between his lips. George sighed, rolling his eyes. “Let me talk to him first,” he proposed as he looked to Jay, Danny, and Dylan, climbing onto the bus and grateful that the others stopped and opted to sit down in the front lounge while he worked his way to the empty bunks section of the bus. It gave him the opportunity to speak to Charlie - alone. 

Stepping up to Charlie’s bunk, George didn’t even bother announcing his intrusion as he tugged the grey curtain open, revealing Charlie inside. The rapper laid on his side, back to George as he faced the interior wall. “What the fuck, man?” George spoke as he stared at the back of Charlie’s head, the long, slightly greasy brown strands of hair going in whichever direction they chose. “Why the hell didn’t you tell us you were leaving?” He continued, again, not getting a response from the rapper. “Jordon,” George spoke more sternly for a third time, finally causing the secluded man inside the small space to tense up, moving slightly to look over his shoulder at his intruder. “Why do you care?” the guitarist finally spoke, turning his head back to face the wall once he had made first initial eye contact with George. The larger man groaned at the half-assed response, rolling his eyes. “What the fuck, Jordon? Why wouldn’t I?” Charlie fell silent again, hoping that the bassist would take the hint and leave on his own. “Jordon!” Charlie jumped again, his eyes closing and tightening as he clung to his pillow tighter. “Fuck off, George. Why don’t you go hang out with your boyfriend instead,” Charlie muttered out, the words stinging as they were pushed passed his lips. He hated the idea of George with someone else; let alone it being Danny. 

George stood motionless for a moment, unsure as to what Charlie even meant by his words. “Boyfriend? What are you talking about?” George raised a brow, even though Charlie couldn’t see it. Charlie sighed quietly, nuzzling the side of his face against his squished pillow - it was the only comfort he could find at that moment. “You and Danny looked real fucking cozy outside the club. Why deal with a fuck up like me, when you can have someone perfect like him, right?” Charlie muttered again, heart aching as he thought back of the view of George being in someone else’s embrace.  _ He should’ve been the one in George’s arms. Instead, Danny beat him to it. _ The rapper bit on the inside of his cheek until the taste of metallic filled his mouth, just waiting for this agonizing conversation to end. “What? Danny?” George blurted out, nearly dumbfounded as his lips slightly parted while no other words came out of his mouth. 

The corners of his mouth slowly twisted upwards into a small smile then, realization kicking in.  _ Charlie was... jealous.  _ Feeling a dip in the bunk as George began climbing in, Charlie had a moment of panic as he quickly turned his head, watching the bassist come into his personal space. He shifted his weight to fully face the intruder, unsure what to do as the remaining space of his bunk was taken up by the much larger male. “You think… I like Danny?” George spoke in a low voice as he shut the curtain closed behind him, leaning towards the trapped rapper. Charlie felt his anxiety rise, unable to escape from the position he was in. His heart twisted in his chest, but he found the courage to at least look at the bassist, not wanting to lose more dignity than he probably already had. “Me? And Danny?” George chuckled out again, “God, you’re dumb.”

Charlie frowned, holding his breath as he felt George bring a hand up, cupping a calloused palm to his face. The touch sent electricity through his nerves, Charlie losing his voice as blue eyes began nearly pleaded with the other ones.  “How could I possibly like Danny when all I’ve ever wanted is right here in front of me?” the bassist whispered quietly, fingertips delicately brushing again the heated skin of Charlie’s rounded cheek. Without any more hesitation, George leaned down, meeting his fake boyfriend half way as their lips finally connected like a couple of puzzle pieces who finally found their match. 


	5. I Need a Dose, Man Fuck The Fixing

George groaned as he slowly began to stir awake, re-positioning his head against the smashed up pillow underneath him in an attempt to get comfortable again. The bassist was fully re-welcoming sleep to take him over, but when it wasn’t happening, George let out a defeated sigh, giving up. Letting his eyelids flutter open, he was first greeted by the ceiling of the bunk before looking around at his other surroundings. Though it was still relatively dark inside of the small living quarters, the morning daylight and the indoor lighting of the bus hallway still managed to leak through the nearly-closed bunk curtain, illuminating some of the space inside. A lazy smile grew onto his face the moment he realized that he was still in Charlie’s bunk. It was messy and had his scent all over it. George shifted his head in order to look down at Charlie’s sleeping figure, who was still curled up against him; an arm was draped around George’s waist while Charlie’s head laid comfortably against George’s chest, face nuzzled into the fabric of his shirt. _God, I hope this isn’t a dream_. Retightening his arm that was fit loosely around Charlie’s shoulders, George lifted his other arm to begin playing in the rapper’s hair, his fingers slowly and soothingly combing through the long brown hair.

George thought about the night before; not even twelve hours ago, he and Charlie were barely on speaking terms, Charlie flat out refusing to even look at him. How it had suddenly shifted from anger to a floodgate of emotions being opened. He thought about their kiss. That kiss they shared was so... passionate. How their lips moved together in unison, at one point George unable to tell who was the one that initiated it and who was the one that led it to continue on for several minutes longer. No words were even exchanged after the kiss, and honestly, George was okay with that; he didn’t want to force Charlie to talk if he wasn’t ready. He was more than happy to just take Charlie’s actions over words, the guitarist falling asleep in his arms shortly after.

His hand movement stopped as the other finally began to move, making a soft noise as he did so. “You awake?” George asked in a barely audible whisper. Charlie just shifted his weight as he snuggled himself closer to the larger body beside him. “Five more minutes…” Charlie mumbled, tilting his head to bury his face against the side of George’s neck. George couldn’t help but chuckle in response, leaning his cheek against Charlie’s head as his finger’s dove into the rapper’s hair once more. He swore he could hear purring coming from the other man as he stroked at the strands. _Or was that snoring?_ Mere moments later, Charlie was indeed snoring. The bassist sighed, gently rolling his eyes as he then closed them, feeling so… content. _Five more minutes did sound pretty nice._

“ _Psssssst_.” George’s eyes shot back open at the sudden intrusion, turning his head towards the closed curtain. Maybe if he ignored it, it would just go away. “ _Psssssst_!” Groaning, George reached over to peel the closed curtain open just enough so he could look out. A smiling Dylan stood on the other side of the privacy barrier, his grin suddenly turning into a puzzled expression. “Hey, Char—Whoa, George? What...are you doing in Charlie’s bunk?” George smiled in response, shaking his head. “Goodbye, Dylan,” he spoke in a low tone, slowly closing the curtain between them once more. Shortly after, Charlie began to stir again, this time slowly picking his head up and blinking sleepy blue eyes at him. “Hey,” George whispered as their eyes met, his grip around Charlie’s shoulders slightly loosening. “Mm. Hey,” Charlie muttered back, his voice groggy as he laid his head back down, face resuming position against the crook of George’s neck. The bassist slowly rubbed at Charlie’s back, right between the shoulder blades. “You know we have to get up eventually, right?” Charlie sighed in protest against George’s neck, his hot breath making George’s skin tingle beneath it. George laughed softly, hand diving back into Charlie’s hair to run his fingers through it once more. “And you need to fucking shower. When was the last time you washed this mop?” Charlie wrinkled his nose, his arm tightening around George’s waist, still not planning on moving anytime soon. “Only if you join me.”

George blinked at Charlie’s response, unsure why he suddenly felt so flustered by it. They always made jokes regarding such things, but this time, it felt like it had a little bit more meaning - like he actually _meant_ it this time. “Charlie Scene feeling horny?” George asked with a chuckle and raised a brow. Charlie picked his head up from the other’s neck to give him a sleepy smile, “When is he not?” George’s own grin turned devious as he brought a hand to Charlie’s chin, tilting his head up slightly as he began to lean down to initiate a kiss.

“Uh… knock knock?” Danny’s voice chimed in, interrupting the moment just before George was about to place his lips against Charlie’s. Charlie dipped his head back down, sulking a bit to hear it was Danny; residual of jealousy sticking with him from the night before. “What?” George groaned as he pulled the curtain back open, the blonde now standing on the outside. Danny leaned to the side slightly, peeking into the bunk slightly before giving George a wide grin when he saw Charlie snuggled against him. George returned the smile, though urged his head forward, signaling for Danny to continue to state why he was really there. “Oh, right! We’re about to head out for breakfast before we check into the hotel and venue. Thought I’d offer… considering Jordon threw a fit last time.” Charlie snorted from inside the bunk, “Assholes!” George chuckled, rolling his blue eyes before giving Danny a nod, “Yeah. We’ll be right out. Give us ten minutes.” “Or twenty,” Charlie blurted out. “ _ **TEN**_ minutes,” Danny shook his head, tugging Charlie’s bunk curtain closed to leave the two alone once again. Bringing their attention back to each other, George licked his lips as he resumed his hand on Charlie’s chin, leaning in. “Now, where were we?”

“Can we _go_ now?!” Matt groaned impatiently in his raspy voice, his head falling back against the back of the couch as the band waited for the two remaining members to join them. “Chill, Matt. I guaranteed them we’d wait ten minutes. So, they have approximately…” Danny looked down at his watch, sighing, “Negative seven minutes…” he frowned, pursing his lip. “Then lets just fucking leave them!” the drummer hopped up from the couch. “We’re coming, we’re coming,” George rolled his eyes as he emerged from the back of the bus, pulling a coat on over his tank top. “Where’s Charlie?” Dylan asked. George looked over his shoulder; he was right behind him a moment ago. “I’m sure he’s coming.” Matt playfully scoffed, “Dude, we did not need to know what you two were doing back there.” George made a face, “We weren’t…” he mumbled quietly, though smiling at the thought. Charlie emerged in the doorway after changing into a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt, a flat rim cap covering his still unwashed hair. Luckily they were getting a hotel that night, so he would be able to take advantage of finally cleaning it. “Shut the hell up, Matt. We all know you’re going to be jerking off to it later, you fucking fag.” Charlie shot back in the drummer’s direction, the other man just narrowing his blue eyes. “How am I the fag,” he muttered to himself, dropping it.

“Alright kids, let's get going,” Dylan said mockingly, getting off the bus. Jorel was waiting for them outside, he was finishing a smoke. “What took so long?” George simply grinned, glancing at Charlie, “Oh ya know, same old same old.” Jorel shrugged, “Okay,” leaving it at that. As they walked down the street towards the small diner that Jorel had picked out, George and Charlie were side by side, their hands brushed against each other as they strolled. Both looking at each other, George was the first to just smile, bringing an arm around Charlie’s shoulder, which the rapper reciprocated with an arm around the other’s waist. Stepping up from behind, Dylan nudged Charlie. “So… what was George doing in your bunk all night?” He asked. He was Charlie’s best friend after all, shouldn’t he know these things if something was up? “Nothing, man.” George chimed in, somehow noticing Charlie lower his head into his shoulders, signaling that he was not wanting to openly talk about “this thing” with everyone else quite yet. “We were just talking, and I fell asleep,” George shrugged. _And maybe there was just a little bit of making out on the side_. Dylan whined, “Damnit, I was hoping for something a little more juicer than that!” Charlie snorted, “God, you’re such a perv. Get laid, bro.” George chuckled softly, shaking his head as he looked over at Danny beside him, noticing his small smile and the blush that instantly filled the blonde’s cheeks.

“So, what are the room arrangements for this time around?” Jorel asked as they all sat around their booth, sipping from his coffee. “God, please anyone but Jordon.” Matt pleaded as he was pelted in the head once more with a tiny paper ball, made by the napkin that Charlie had been ripping into pieces. Paper balls laid all around the table in front of the drummer, a few noticeably resting in the frizz of his hair - not that anyone would tell him. “Well, I don’t mind bunking with Danny again. He’s a quiet sleeper, lets me get my beauty sleep.” Dylan suggested first, Danny shooting him a bashful smile from across the table. Charlie noticed the exchange, raising his brow, but stayed quiet. “You and me, Jordon?” Jorel asked, George quickly turning his head to look at the rapper this time. “I uh… yeah, I think I’m gonna bunk with George this time ‘round. No hard feelings.” Charlie shrugged. Jorel made a face. “So I’m the one who has to be stuck with King Crybaby?” Matt looked up from his phone, “What is that suppose to mean?!” Jay groaned, pressing his forehead to the tabletop. “Then it’s settled,” George started, “Me and Jordon, Danny and Dylan, Jay and Crybab—I mean Matt.” Matt shook his head, “Whatever,” paper balls falling out of his hair as his head movements shook them free. “Fuck you, Charlie!” Charlie couldn’t control a fit of giggles, being elbowed by George after as a way of being scolded. “Let’s finish up here, get to the hotel, and get some rest before the show tonight.” The six men nodded in agreeance. “And Jordon?” Danny spoke out. Charlie looked up with a mouthful of pastry. “Please wash that fucking hair.”

\----

“So we have two hours until we have to head over to the venue. We will meet right here at 4PM. If you’re late, we’re leaving without _you_.” Danny instructed, looking specifically over in Charlie’s direction. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he’s on time,” George responded with a smile, placing a hand on the rapper’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t leave without me anyway,” Charlie winked, being the first to start departing from their group in the middle of the hotel lobby. George followed behind closely, the other four then breaking in different directions to their assigned rooms.

Charlie flopped down on one of the queen-sized beds in their room, placing an arm behind his head to prop himself up against the pillows as he wasted no time to make himself comfortable. Though the bed wasn’t that comfortable, it still beat the bunks on the bus by a long shot. With remote in hand, he flipped through the television channels, a majority of the channels in French, so it didn’t hold much of his attention. Stepping up to the side of the bed, George looked down at the rapper, giving a gentle smile. Charlie found George’s grin contagious, as his own lips instinctually curled upwards as he looked back up at the other man, “What?” He chuckled, scooting over a bit on the bed in case George was wanting to join him. George sat down on the edge, reaching out to gently brush a hand at Charlie’s outstretched leg. Despite bunking together hundreds of times, the touch caused Charlie to tense slightly, feeling a bout of butterflies in his stomach. Though they had bunked together hundreds of times, it was the first time they were sharing a room since all of those feelings they harnessed for each other were realized and acted on. Charlie couldn’t help but feel nervous.

“Did you want to talk? About this? _Us_?” George asked, not wanting to rush the rapper into it, but still felt the need to prod the man’s thoughts for his own peace of mind. Charlie’s flutters intensified, realizing that he’d eventually have to confront his own thoughts again, the ones that caused so much turmoil the past couple of days. “Do we have to?” Charlie asked, lifting his brows, idly chewing on his lower lip as he looked up at George, “Can’t we just make out instead?” The other just chuckled, sighing as he moved a little bit closer to the younger man, hovering over him slightly. “Can you at least answer one thing for me?” George asked, his hand moving to touch as Charlie’s stubbled cheek. Charlie tilted his head in response. “The other night, at the club. When you were drunk and told me you’ve always liked me, before ever so delicately shoving your tongue down my throat. Was that true? _Always_?” George asked. Charlie blinked once, before feeling his cheeks warm up, giving George a confirming nod. God damn his drunken confessions. George smirked, lowering himself closer to Charlie, leaning his head in to press kisses down Charlie’s neck, “And when you told me I turn you on?” he continued, his voice now low as he breathed against Charlie’s neck. Charlie could feel his tenseness return, closing his eyes as he tried to allow himself to relax against the soothing touch of George’s lips; they felt nice against his skin. George trailed his mouth along the length of the rapper’s neck, pressing his lips to the patch of skin that he remembered Charlie moaned from the previous night before. “Do I?” George asked again, next to Charlie’s ear. The guitarist let out a slightly shaky breath, nodding his head again. George laughed as he pulled out of Charlie’s neck to look down at his slightly flustered bandmate, “Good.”

George straddled Charlie at the waist as they kissed, Charlie’s arms wrapped around George’s neck as the larger man’s hands brushed up and down his sides. Their tongues touched and explored each other’s mouths, the younger band mate finding himself moaning gently against George’s lips. He enjoyed kissing George more and more each time they engaged, this new closeness rivaling the closed-mouthed pecks they used to do on a daily basis for the public. He never thought he’d be able to experience a _real_ kiss with George - or even allow himself to. Breaking the kiss to trail his lips along Charlie’s jawline, George opened his eyes to quickly glance at the digital clock on the nightstand, double-taking when he couldn’t believe what it read. _Who would’ve thought time would get away just from making out?_ “You need to shower. We have to go down soon,” George mumbled against Charlie’s skin, making the rapper groan in protest. The bassist sighed as he moved to sit up on top of his bandmate, straightening his back as he looked down at Charlie below him. Raising a brow as he felt Charlie’s slight boner from underneath of him, George laughed. “Is that a… Jordon, what the hell? We were only kissing.” Charlie instantly burned a deep red, embarrassed.

“Come on, horndog,” George smirked, climbing off of the rapper and off the bed. George stood on his feet, turning around in order to take one last look at Charlie laid out, getting a better look at what was going on in his shorts. He held his hands out, offering them to Charlie to help him up. As soon as Charlie took them and got up, George placed his hands on his hips, pulling them against his own as he leaned in to press a much softer kiss to Charlie’s already slightly swollen lips. “We need to get you clean. I promised Danny,” he chuckled as he broke away, taking his hands off Charlie to lead the way towards the bathroom. “ _We?_ You’re… going to shower with me?” Charlie stopped in his tracks outside of the bathroom door, asking curiously - almost sounding apprehensive by his tone. “You invited this morning, didn’t you?” George responded, the sound of the shower beginning to run. Charlie bit his lip, trying to remember. _Shit, he did_. Stepping into the doorway, he watched George begin to shed his clothes, all that inked skin now on display. Charlie gulped. He felt nervous, not only because it added fuel to his stiffy, but also because he’d be naked - in the shower - with George - with a boner. “What’s wrong? I can leave if you want...” George spoke, pausing at his boxers for a moment, noticing Charlie looking uncomfortable. Snapping out of his gaze, the rapper quickly shook his head, stepping into the bathroom and closer to George. The older man’s grin grew, reaching down to slowly pull Charlie’s shirt up and off of his back, helping him undress.

Stepping into the shower, Charlie allowed the hot water to pour into his hair, soaking the longer strands. He could feel George’s eyes on him, but honestly, Charlie’s was on George too. The goal of getting clean quickly became an afterthought as George pushed Charlie up against the cool tiled wall, their lips connecting again. The kiss was hungry; needy. Charlie’s back arched forward; the tiles felt too cold against his skin, and he let out a gasp as George’s cock touched his. George moved in and wrapped his arms around the small of the younger one’s back, pushing his pelvis against his. The rapper let out a groan, “You gonna make me dirty before you clean me?” his lips tugging into a smirk. ”Dirtier. You were already dirty to begin with.” George smiled back as he then moved to press his mouth to Charlie’s neck, the guitarist letting out another short moan when he felt sharp nips and sucking at his skin. He wrapped his arms around George’s neck, tilting his chin up and to the side to give the invading lips more access to his skin, the back of his head rolling against the tile. As George continued kissing at the stubbled neck, he bucked his hips forward against Charlie’s, creating friction that wasn’t able to be ignored. He gazed fingertips against Charlie’s lower back, the hand moving down to playfully grip at his ass, earning another noise from the man trapped between him and the wall.

Charlie’s mind was racing, the emotions of want and lust conquering each time George touched him the right way. Despite expressing his pleasure, he still felt… nervous. How quickly this was happening - kissing, touching and moaning for George. _George_. “Ah, George!” Charlie breathed out as he felt the other man sucking roughly at his neck, a hand wrapping around his hard cock. Charlie quietly whimpered at the touch to his erection, head shooting upright as his wide blue eyes looked up at the much taller man. A look of concern, almost fear. George picked his head up from Charlie’s neck, giving him a tender smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll take this slow.” He spoke quietly, reassuring the man as his hand began to slowly stroke him. Charlie gasped, the back of his head falling back against the tile as his eyes fell closed. George’s hand squeezed just right around the rapper’s needy cock, rubbing at the head every chance he got, quickening his pace.

Charlie sucked in his lower lip, eyes still tightly shut as he groaned at the sudden quickness of George’s hand. “F-fuck,” he groaned under his breath, his own hips beginning to move against the hand that stimulated him so well. The shower’s stream easily washed away the evidence of the rapper’s already leaking head, though George could feel the slickness as his thumb pressed against the tip, moving in a circular motion that caused the rapper to moan, hips moving again in reaction to the pleasure that was being caused. “Faster?” George asked, voice low, Charlie giving a pleading nod. “F-faster, George,” the younger man managed to choke out, his arms around George’s neck pulling at him. Doing as Charlie asked, George’s hand pumped him feverishly, Charlie’s buckling of his hips becoming sloppy and out of rhythm in response. Charlie felt dizzy as he felt himself nearly orgasm, his lower stomach tightening and twisting, as a flow of small moans escaped his lips as he tried to hold out for as long as he could. His mind was screaming at him; _George fucking Ragan is going to make me cum!_ Not moments later, the stimulation became too much, Charlie moaning out as he felt himself beginning to spill into the other’s hand, George continuing to stroke him as he went through the motions of his orgasm.

The rapper panted, his arms still tightly wrapped around George’s neck as he pulled the larger man down, hiding his face against his neck as he recovered. George let go of Charlie’s cock then, the shower making for an easy clean up between the two. When he was ready, Charlie pulled his head out from George’s neck, looking up to him with satisfied blue eyes. “Do fake boyfriends give each other handjobs?” George asked, causing Charlie’s already flushed round cheeks to turn an even rosier color. George chuckled. “Now let’s get some shampoo in that hair,” George grinned, as his hands slid up Charlie’s sides before dropping from the man’s body completely, reaching out for the hotel-supplied mini bottle of shampoo on the shelf. Charlie raised his eye, unable to keep from glancing down George’s body to his still erect cock. “But what about… y’know…” Charlie asked curiously as George poured shampoo into his hands, then plopping his palms against the top of Charlie’s head, lathering the brown strands until suds formed. “Don’t worry about me. If I let you out of this room _still_ looking like a grease ball, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Charlie smiled at the response, allowing George to continue washing his filthy hair for him. There was no need to worry; George would definitely make sure to take care of himself as soon as Charlie was clean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We both love and appreciate comments!


	6. I’m Getting Sick 'Cause Superstition

“Wow, they’re actually here on time,” Jay mused out loud, watching as George and a groomed Charlie made their way towards the group. Danny perked up, his eyes heading straight to the rapper’s hair, “Holy shit, it’s clean!” Charlie gave an unamused look, crossing his arms. “Hello to you too, Danny.” The singer ripped off Charlie’s hat to slide his hands in the rapper’s hair, combing his fingers through the now considerably smooth and fluffy brown strands. “Okay, so we should definitely get the back trimmed off... oh, maybe use the electric razor on it here and there…” he mumbled as he envisioned the different ways he could cut his hair. Charlie faintly blushed before swatting away Danny’s hands, snatching his cap back and plopping it back on his head, “Hands off! I wanna keep it this way.” Danny took a step back, looking dumbfounded and borderline offended, “You want to keep... _that_?” Dylan chuckled, watching his secret boyfriend try to comprehend that his help wasn’t needed by the shaggy rapper.

“But it’s too long! You’ve got a mullet, Charlie,” Danny sputtered, stopping when he felt Dylan’s firm hand against his shoulder. “Look, Danny. If Jordy wants to look like he’s having a midlife crisis, then just let him,” Dylan looked at Charlie with a cheesy grin, “No offense, homie.” Charlie rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, okay. Whatever, we’re here on time so let’s just go before Matty gets his panties all in a twist.” Looking up from his phone, Matt’s jaw unhinged, eyes narrowing towards Charlie. “No one likes you,” Matt muttered under his breath, sounding bored by Charlie’s comment. The rapper only smirked, playfully blowing a kiss in Matt’s direction. The drummer sneered much like his mask, eyes falling back down on social media. “See that, guys? He liked it. Told you he was a fag!”

George suddenly put his arm around Charlie, roughly patting the rapper’s shoulder, “Yep, what a fag.” Charlie looked up at George, his confident expression turning very sheepish.

\----

“I've come way too far for this, I've put in too much work, I've dealt with too much hurt. I've worked way too hard for this. But we live in dark places, dark places...” Danny sang from his microphone stand, guitar strapped to his body as he moved underneath the heat of the lights. The crowd screamed, singing along to every word that came from the blonde’s mouth. Hollywood Undead was performing their second to last show of the tour to a sold-out crowd, the energy high and only increasing after each song they played.

Jorel grabbed his microphone from its stand and moved to the center of the stage, “People say I'm pissed off, 'cause I like to shit talk, but people are fake, so wait till their jaws lock!” He spat, bouncing and bending his knees and moving his arm as he rapped his verses. Charlie and George both stood on one of the risers, allowing Jay to be front and center during his bars. While the attention was on the founding member, they took the few moments to look and smile at each other, sharing a silent conversation that no one else could’ve deciphered. Charlie gave George a final smirk, before bringing the neck of his beer bottle to his lips, setting his lips on the side and giving the other man a suggestive look. George rolled his eyes behind sunglasses, attention going back to the show as he waited for his turn of verses after Jay’s.

“Like I'm gonna stop now, like I'm gonna cop out, show these motherfuckers I ain't willing to drop out!” Jay moved across the stage, settling to stand next to Matt as he banged on his kit, frizzy curly hair moving up and down as the drummer rocked his head. “I'll keep breaking my back, and I ain't gonna choke…” Jay continued his verse, smirking as he moved closer to Matt. Extending his free arm, his palm suddenly connected with Matt’s upper arm, giving the drummer a hard push, causing Matt to stumble and nearly lose his balance. “...Show these faggots I'm tough, that I keep climbing the rope!” Jay finished, playfully showing a flexed bicep to the crowd as Danny instantly went into the next chorus. Charlie burst into laughter from his spot on the riser, jumping off to run up and high-five Jorel for a job well done. George shook his head, moving from the riser to prepare for his round of vocals. Matt, trying to compose himself from his near fall, only glared at two laughing men.

A couple songs later, Charlie manned the microphone, doing what he did best and engaged with the screaming crowd. “It’s my favorite part of the show, ladies and gentleman!” He spoke into the microphone, Matt instantly groaning from the back and sinking behind his kit. He knew what was coming. “I want everyone to repeat after me…” Charlie began, pausing while the crowd cheered and followed their directions barked by the current frontman. “When I say ‘Da Kurlzz’, you say ‘Faggot’. Da Kurlzz!” Charlie yelled before pausing, pointing the head of the microphone out towards the audience, “FAGGOT!” Back to himself, “DA KURLZZ!” And back once more to the crowd, “FAGGOT!” Charlie laughed, looking over at the drummer whose face was expressing pure misery. “Holy shit. Best fucking day of my life!” the rapper gleamed to the crowd, looking from Matt, and then over to George, who simply just gave him a small smirk and shook his head.

“I fucking hate you both,” Matt spoke as they stepped off of the stage after performing, the crowd still screaming for one more song, despite the encore already being performed. “Lighten up, Matt. You make it too fucking easy.” Charlie grinned as he put an arm around Matt’s shoulder, the drummer shaking the arm off only moments later, grimacing at the jokester. “Damn, someone’s being a little bitch tonight. I’m sorry you’re rooming with him, Jay.” Charlie responded, taking his arm back as he instead reached for the closest body, George. George returned the arm embrace, his arm going back the rapper’s middle, fingertips lightly brushing against his side. He pulled Charlie in slightly as he lowered his head down. “Lay off the fag jokes a bit, will ya?” George spoke quietly for only Charlie to hear, the younger man making a confused face as he looked up at him. “May I remind you I gave you a hand job in the fucking shower this afternoon - and you fucking _loved_ it.” George smiled, his hand squeezing at the smaller’s side. Charlie’s face instantly turned red.

\----

Hours later, the six found themselves winding down in their hotel rooms, relaxing after the show. _Well, at least, most of them were_. “Dude, I fuckin’ hate you,” Matt complained, exiting the shower in a pair of basketball shorts, using a towel to scrub his massive hair dry. Jorel was already laying in his own bed, the blankets pulled up tightly to his waist while he wore a Misfits tee over his torso; he already showered before Matt. Watching something on his phone with earbuds tucked into his ears, Jorel raised a perfect eyebrow once noticing Matt’s lips moving. “What’d you say?” Jorel muttered, pulling a single earbud out, looking unamused. The drummer rolled his eyes, tossing the towel onto a chair, “I said, I fuckin’ hate you. I almost fell when you pushed me, you dick!” Jorel’s attention was mostly on his phone, eyes back on the screen after only giving the drummer a single glance. “Yeah, I saw. It was pretty funny,” he looked back at Matt, “You gonna stop talking now or…?” Matt glared, stomping around to the other side of Jorel’s bed. “I’m sick of being called a faggot! If anything, Jordon’s the fag around here, I know he and George have something going on!”

Jay glanced up from his screen. “Charlie’s not a fag. He’s weird in the things he does but that doesn’t make him one.” The drummer looked at him in disbelief, “Then how am _I_ the fag?!” Jorel groaned slightly, getting irritated that Matt wouldn’t just drop the subject. Didn’t he realize that he was trying to watch something here? “For starters, you’re obsessing over whether or not two men are fucking.” Jorel entertained the curly haired man, “Are you really _that_ interested in Jordon’s sex life?” Matt sarcastically gagged at the mere thought, “No! I’m just—“ Jorel put his phone down on his lap, annoyed. “I fucking _heard_ them, Jay!” The bassist rolled his eyes. “You heard a moan. People moan in their sleep. Why were you even _listening_ in on them, unless you were fucking enjoying it? That’s faggy, Matt.”

Matt could feel his eye twitch, mouth slightly gaped open. “I can’t believe it. He’s got you on his side now. You believe him.” Matt spoke in disbelief, Jorel had this phone back up, looking up from the program he watched - yet again. Matt was making it awfully difficult to pay attention to the action that played out on the screen. “Jesus, Matt. It’s like you’re trying to tell me to _prove_ it to you. Would you shut the fuck up before I shut you up myself?” Matt scoffed, “And what're you going to do? There's no way you could ‘prove’ anything,” he declared. The bassist was done with his whining bandmate at this point, sticking his dangling earbud back into his ear with the plan on blocking out the drummer for the rest of the night. That was, until Matt ripped his phone from his hands, quickly pulling the aux cord out. “Hey—!” _“Please, oh fuck me harder! Ah—OH god! Right there!”_ Matt blinked, daring to look down at the video Jorel was watching; it was titled: _Emo Dom Fucks Loud Twink_.

Male moans continued to play out; Matt's face was blank as he turned the phone off, promptly tossing it onto the edge of the bed. Jorel was quick to explain himself, “It’s not what you’re thinking, dude. I just like watching anal stuff but girls doing anal is super fake and I just watch the guy ones ‘cause I know they feel pleasure so their reactions are real!” he rushed out. Matt stood in silence for a few moments, with a dead look in his eyes, “You’re… a faggot.” Jorel immediately sat up, offended, “I’m not! You’re the fag here!” The drummer threw his arms out. “You were literally just watching gay porn!” Jorel stood, grimacing, his half-stiffy visible through his boxer briefs. Stepping towards the drummer, Jay reached out, gripping at Matt’s upper arm, “I’ll show who the fag is.” With a strong tug, he pushed Matt onto the bed, immediately following and climbing on top of him, straddling him at his waist.

“I’m not a fag, dude!” Matt fought, trying to push away a blush. Jorel swayed his ass against the drummer’s pelvis, “If you get hard, you’re a faggot,” Jorel challenged, smirking as he pinned Matt’s wrists down. Matt shut his eyes, groaning in annoyance and arousal, “You’re rubbing my dick with your ass, you’re clearly the—“ Jorel leaned forward, his clothed cock pushing against the bulge now, making Matt gasp. “You’re right, that was way too faggy of me.” Reaching down between their bodies, Jorel palmed the front of Matt’s basketball shorts, smirking at what he felt. “Oh, look. Someone’s already hard.” Matt immediately diverted blue eyes from looking up at Jay, embarrassed that his body was already betraying him. “Fuck you—Ah!” Matt was cut off from his spat, feeling a sharp bite to his neck as hips continued to grind against his own, the friction it caused almost causing the screamer to forget the argument they were even having. His pinned arms finally gave up in their struggle, allowing the dominant man above hold him down firmly as he bit and sucked at his neck.

“Jay—“ Matt breathed out in a shaky groan, as Jay’s dry humps became harder, causing the curly haired male to squirm underneath. “What, faggot?” Jay growled with a smirk, Matt shooting him an angry look before it melted away to a more pleading one. “Just…” Jay paused his moving hips only for a moment, just to look down at the drummer as the other instantly blushed. “Just what?” Jorel barked, as he grinded his hard-on down against Matt’s own. “Please..!” He shakily breathed out, his pinned hands doing their best to grab hold of Jay’s nearby wrists. “You want some cock, Matty? Beg for it.” Another groan sounded out amongst the otherwise quiet hotel room as he bucked his hips against the drummer’s ass, “Just fucking give it to me already!”

Letting go of Matt’s wrists, Jay moved off of the older man, roughly twisting him over onto his stomach. “Get on your knees,” he instructed in a firm voice; Matt did as he was told, hastily moving to all fours. “Damn, this is the first time you’ve fucking listened all week.” Jay joked, moving behind the other. “Fuck you,” Matt muttered, gasping as he felt his basketball shorts roughly being tugged down past his hips. Pressing his hand to Matt’s upper back, Jorel pushed the drummer downward, the side of his face pressed into the surface of the mattress, leaving only his ass up in the air. Jay pulled himself out of the front of his boxers, erection springing free from the tight confinements of the cotton fabric. He spat into his hand, curling his fingers around his hard cock as he coated it with saliva, sighing out to his own touch. “Come on, Jay!” Matt pleaded, letting out a cry as a firm hand slapped against the pale cheek of his ass. “Who’s in charge here?” Jay snarled, aligning himself up to Matt’s hole, causing the drummer to hiss. With a forward motion, Jorel pushed past the tight walls of Matt’s entrance, the submissive male moaning at the intrusion. “You’ve done this before; I can tell,” Jorel smirked, hips pausing their movements for a just a moment before pushing forward again, allowing Matt to fully engulf him.

Matt groaned as Jay moved in and out of him, the screamer’s hands clutching to the blankets to brace himself against the strong thrusts. “Harder, Jay!” Matt whined, gasping each time Jay bucked his hips forward, his words reminiscent of the _Loud Twink_. “Say please…” Jorel breathed out in turn, a kind of maniacal laughter following after. The older man whimpered, unable to hold much pride as he moaned out a stuttered “ _Please!_ ” Complying with the request, the bassist moved harder in and out of his bandmate, skin slapping each time his hips hit against the other’s cheeks. “F-fuck!” Matt groaned, moving a hand to grip at his own neglected cock, plumping it feverishly to get up to speed of Jorel’s thrusts. A low growl came from above him, Jay’s hand moving off of Matt’s hip to give a harsh smack on his ass. “Good fags cum untouched, take what I give you,” he groaned. Matt’s hand stopped moving but didn’t leave his leaking cock, “I can’t! Ah god, I’m so close,” Matt moaned, his normally raspy voice reduced to a higher pitch with each pleasure filled cry, humping against his own hand as he whined. Jorel rolled his hips with each hard thrust, giving the man under him no mercy, “You gonna cum? Already? What a little faggot.”

Matt gave a slight choke as he felt himself nearing his climax, a few more hard thrusts from the man behind him sending him over the edge. With a final groan, the loud twink came, spilling out over his hand and onto the once clean sheets of Jorel’s bed. The bassist, not far behind, grit his teeth as he slammed his hips forward, burying himself deep as he poured inside of the drummer. As soon as Jay let go of Matt’s hips, the older man allowed himself to collapse against the bed, cock slipping out of him, his labored breath filling the silent room. Matt let out small grunts and whines as he uncomfortably moved his legs, feeling warm cum slip out, “You didn’t even bother to pull out?” he asked, lifting his head to look at his bandmate in disbelief. Jorel moved off of the bed, tucking himself back into his boxers. He shrugged, “Sorry, Matt. I thought you were into that kind of shit.” Walking with slightly wobbly legs, Jorel moved to the other hotel bed, climbing in and getting underneath the blankets. “What are you doing?” Matt asked as he slowly propped himself up with an arm, his eyebrow raising. “Dude, you got cum on my bed. I’m not sleeping on that.” Matt looked down by his stomach, “It’s on the edge of the bed, you know I like being close to the vent!” He complained. Jorel looked up from the blankets, “This isn’t your way of asking for aftercare, is it? Cause that’s faggy, Matt.”

Slowly moving from the bed, Matt stood, face twisting as he felt the sensation of leakage from his sore ass. Shamefully shuffling over towards the bathroom, Matt turned to face the bassist, who was already settling into the bed, ready for sleep. “Jay?” Matt spoke in his raspy tone, Jay turning his head to look over at him. “Never speak a word of this—to anyone.” Jay grinned, “Whatever you say, Matty.”

\----

After taking their own showers and getting partially redressed, George laid on his back in the hotel bed they were sharing for the night, an arm wrapped tightly around Charlie’s shoulders as the rapper’s head rested upon his chest. His hand brushed through the longer strands of hair at the back of Charlie’s head. Charlie’s fingertips traced the tattoos that laid across George’s bare skin in front of him. The room was quiet, aside from the slightly muffled sound of the hotel television’s volume on low and the individual thoughts that flowed through the two men as they laid together.

George was the first to break the silence, tilting his head slightly to look down at the man cuddling so close to him. “Jord?” he began, his fingers ceasing their movements in Charlie’s clean hair. “Hm?” the rapper hummed in response, not looking up from where he was drawing against outlined ink. “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” George asked, deciding it was the best time to have their talk. If they didn’t, the unanswered questions would just eat at him. Charlie stayed silent for the moment, before ultimately giving a small shrug of his shoulder. “I don’t know. I liked what we had going on. I didn’t want to screw it up by saying something.” George pursed his lips, “And yet you denied it even after knowing I returned those feelings, man. You almost screwed it up just by doing that. Why were you pushing me away?” Charlie frowned slightly as George continued speaking, still keeping his eyes averted where he felt they were safe; he didn’t want to see any of the hurt in George’s eyes that he knew he had inflicted from the past few days. Fact of the matter was, Charlie didn’t have any real good reason, aside from just not wanting to accept that he had fallen for one of his best friends.

“Embarrassed? Ashamed? What was it?” George started listing out possible answers for the rapper to claim. Charlie picked his head up from George’s chest then, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look at the larger man properly. Charlie let out a deep sigh when he realized George wasn’t going to let him out of the conversation easily like last time, casting his eyes down. “Maybe a little bit of both…” he admitted honestly and quietly, head drooping to his shoulders, “I don’t know, George. I’ve never felt this way before, y’know… for a guy. I always thought the kissing and the hugging and the sexual jokes were all just fun and games until I started… _really_ enjoying them. I started thinking more about them. Wondering what it would really be like to do those things...with you.” Charlie paused, already feeling his cheeks and ears warm up in a blush as he blurted out things that he had never really shared publicly with anyone before. “I felt like there was something wrong with me. Having those thoughts about you? Like, how could I sink so low?”

Charlie stopped speaking, expecting George to get angry at him; expecting him to call him a dumbass and instantly decide against getting closer to someone who was so insecure about their identity; expecting him to chew him out for treating him like shit just because he didn’t want to deal with his ‘sinful’ attractions. Instead, he felt the soothing brush of the man’s fingers against his side. “There is nothing _wrong_ with you. With this. With us. Who fucking cares who judges you, as long as we have each other? I don't think any different of you, and neither will any of the guys. Why shouldn't you… _we_ act on something that feels so right?” George reassured the rapper, his hands on Charlie’s body almost causing the younger man to purr out in comfort and in relief. Charlie’s frown turned upward just slightly. “ _We_ are nothing to be ashamed of.” Moving his hand to cup at Charlie’s round cheek, George closed the gap, their lips connecting and slowly moving against each other. Charlie could feel his insecurities melt against the touch, focusing only on George’s words, which echoed through his ears and up to his brain. _There is nothing wrong with this._

George pulled back from the kiss, his soft blue eyes catching sight with Charlie’s. “I want _this_ to be something, Jordon. I don’t want _this_ to be fake, anymore.” Charlie smiled sheepishly, taken aback by the stern look that George gave him in return; he was so serious. “You want to label this?” Charlie asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked at the older man, who shook his head. “I don’t want to be fake boyfriends anymore.” Charlie playfully frowned, “What? You’re fake breaking up with me?” George rolled his eyes, “Yes. Because I want a real fucking boyfriend, not a fake one.” Charlie made a face, wrinkling the bridge of his nose. “Isn’t a fucking first date supposed to happen before labels start getting thrown around like this?” The bassist groaned, casting his eyes dramatically up to the ceiling before looking back at Charlie. “You didn’t need a first date when you let me jerk you off…” After Charlie gave him an unamused look, George sighed, reaching his hand up to stroke back Charlie’s brown hair, pushing some of the strands behind his ear. “Fine. I’ll take you on a fucking first date, alright? As soon as we get back to Los Angeles.” Charlie raised a brow, “Where?”

George grinned as he looked up at the rapper, fingers pausing in his hair. “The barbershop.”


	7. Who Needs The Milk Man?

Charlie wasn’t sure what time it was, but he knew it was still sometime during the middle of the night. The moonlight shined through the window of their hotel room, illuminating most of the space inside with a subtle glow. He watched as George slept beside him, the much larger male still somehow keeping a protective arm around his shoulders, despite being sound asleep. With his head resting on George’s chest, he rose and fell to the pattern of the bassist’s breathing, even able to feel and hear the man’s heartbeat through his torso. Charlie smiled. His friend... band mate... _boyfriend?_ ... was breathtaking; his inked chest and toned stomach, to his bulging biceps and perfect jawline. He noticed that George was starting to tan too; his skin was darkening a bit. He bit his lip, raising his hand and gently setting it on George’s chest. He brushed his fingertips gently against the skin, familiarizing himself with every dip and groove he came across. Though he hadn’t admitted it out loud yet, he wanted to know and feel every inch of him. The rapper thought about their conversation shortly before they went to sleep; he thought about George’s words: _There is nothing wrong with this._ And for once since developing such conflicting emotional and intimate feelings for the other, he finally believed those words that George spoke. There was nothing wrong with this. Maybe this could be something, after all.

Charlie relaxed his fingertips, his palm flattening back down against George’s rising chest. Applying a little bit of pressure, he shook his hand gently, in result shaking the sleeping man as well. “George?” Charlie whispered, lifting his head from where it laid as he watched his face intently. “George,” Charlie whispered slightly louder, giving him another subtle shake. “Hm?” George murmured, not even opening his eyes as a result of still being half asleep. “George, wake up,” Charlie spoke louder. George finally groaned in response, his arm around Charlie’s shoulders giving him a little tight squeeze. “What is it, Jordon? What fucking time is it?” he spoke in a groggy voice, squinting an eye open to find the room still dark, and blue eyes staring at him at a close distance. Charlie shrugged. George sighed out, squinting eye falling shut again. “Go back to sleep, Jord.” he yawned, settling back into sleep until he felt the rapper’s weight shift.

George’s eyes finally forced themselves open as Charlie climbed on top of him, straddling him at his waist. Charlie moved his hands, pressing them to the chest that he had just been resting on moments before, fingers sprawling across the inked skin. “What are you doing?” George asked, becoming a little more coherent since being shaken awake by the younger male. “I couldn’t sleep,” Charlie admitted sheepishly, his insomnia yet again getting the better of him. “What? So that means I can’t either?” George raised a brow, lifting his butterfly-covered hands to gently rub his palms against the front of Charlie’s thighs, returning the touches. The rapper chuckled softly as his hands paused on George’s chest, going silent for a moment as if he was suddenly lost in his own thoughts. “I was thinking about what you said earlier...” Charlie spoke quietly, despite not having any reason to whisper. George’s lips formed a small, yet sleepy smile. “Yeah? What about?” He quizzed him, his own hands coming to a rest on Charlie’s legs. “The whole… _boyfriend_ thing,” he continued in a hushed voice as if it was a forbidden topic and no one else should hear it but George. “I wouldn’t mind… y’know… giving it a go.” George blinked twice before laughing softly, hands resuming their gentle rubbing. “I thought you wanted to wait until I took you on a ’fucking first date’ before any labeling?” George grinned, his smile then being covered by Charlie’s mouth as the guitarist leaned down to catch the man in a kiss.

George moved a hand from Charlie’s thigh to cup the rapper’s rounded cheek, which was now covered by a fair amount of scruff. Charlie was the first to break the kiss, giving his bandmate a sly pursed smile. “I don’t wanna wait.” Leaning his body down further, Charlie began to gently pepper kisses to George’s jaw, the bassist naturally lifting his chin to give Charlie just a little bit more space to kiss at. “...And I also thought about something else.” Charlie muttered against George’s neck, the older man letting out a breathy laugh as he closed his eyes to enjoy the simple touches. “You know it’s dangerous when you think,” George spoke, making a soft noise when he felt Charlie bite at his neck, only to have the gentle kisses resume again after he made his point. “Ow! Okay, okay… What else did you think about, Sir Charlie?” the bassist sarcastically mused, entertaining the other man. “Well, Jonathan…” Charlie mumbled as he kissed along to George’s throat, leaving another playful nip against his “3” tattoo. “...I never thanked you for that hand job,” he finished, lifting his head up to give George a toothy grin, eyes playfully narrowing.

George just smiled at Charlie, not really sure what to say and wasn't really registering the rapper’s suggestion. “Uh.. you’re welcome?” the older man spoke. Charlie just shook his head as he leaned back down to kiss a line from George’s throat to his chest, slowly inching his way lower and lower with each kiss. George’s eyes widened a bit when realization hit him. “Oh... Oh, Jordon, don’t feel like you need to—” he began, Charlie soon cutting him off. “Dude, just let me suck your cock, alright?” George quieted down, biting and chewing idly on his lower lip as he watched Charlie look back down to his inked skin, giving attention to each inch his lips came across. George could feel his heartbeat begin to thump faster in his chest; his lips curled back into a smile. The rapper was already attractive, but this renewed confidence that he displayed was definitely even more of a turn on for George; he could feel it in his boxers. Moving his hands to Charlie’ hair, his fingers disappeared into the brown stands. “Besides, I’ve done so much talk over the years about being able to deep throat you—Why don’t we see if I was telling the truth?” Charlie looked up at George then, giving him a teasing wink.

Even though Charlie radiated self-confidence on the outside, something he was always quite good at, on the inside, he was quite nervous. He had never done this before, and just knowing that George would be on the receiving end caused butterflies to flutter throughout his insides; almost to the point where it was a bit nauseating. Doing his best to push through the nerves, Charlie moved his body down as he kissed and nipped at George’s warm skin, his mouth reaching down to the point of the bassist’s lean stomach. Looking back up at George, he blushed when he noticed those intense blue eyes on him, never once looking away from him. The soft smile that George wore was calming though, helping Charlie get through his second bout of jitters. George’s hand in Charlie’s hair brushed through the strands to sooth the rapper, fingertips playing with the ends that came to a cute curl. “You’re fucking beautiful…” George muttered out, causing Charlie to tense at the compliment. He was sure his cheeks and ears had turned a deep red and was grateful that the room was dark to hide the blush.

Charlie brought his hands up to brush against the elastic band of George’s boxer briefs, fingertips touching at the material as he moved his head inches more to where he found himself face to face with George’s clothed cock. Lowering himself, he let out a heated breath against the front of the fabric, slowly mouthing George from the outside of the clothing. A slight gasp escaped George’s mouth as he watched, the hot, moist feeling of Charlie’s mouth against him causing a teasing sensation. The noise from George’s lips gave Charlie a new sense of determination as he slowly began pulling down on the older man’s boxer briefs, George lifting his hips off of the bed for a moment to make it easier for Charlie to pull them down and past his prize. Charlie couldn’t help but stare for a few moments, finding himself so close to George’s cock, it stood straight and firm just for him. He glanced up at George then, giving him a smirk before descending, nervously running the tip of his tongue across the head.

George sighed out as Charlie’s mouth made contact, not wanting to look away as Charlie licked at his tip again, finally taking him into his warm mouth. Charlie flicked his light blue eyes up at him, George flashing an approving smile as his hand gently rubbed at the rapper’s head. _Is this happening? Is Jordon actually blowing me?_ George thought to himself as he continued to watch the rapper, almost afraid that he’d wake up from one of  _those_ dreams if he looked away. Charlie wrapped his lips delicately around the tip, slowly pushing the head in, being sure to carefully block his teeth. He tilted his head a bit to the side, gently bobbing and descending further down the well-endowed length until he couldn’t fit much more else in his mouth without having to actually open his throat up. Charlie moved back up again, dragging his tongue up George’s base before flicking the tip of his tongue against his sensitive head. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing; whether he was doing too much or too little, but he assumed he had to be doing _something_ right when a moan escaped George’s lips as Charlie’s mouth moved against him. He smiled to himself, feeling a sense of pride from being able to make George moan out like that. Moaning just for him.

Charlie continued his mouth movements on George’s erection, mentally taking notes in his head each time he did something that made the older man either moan or squirm. George’s fingers in Charlie’s hair tightened against the strands the quicker Charlie moved against him, the rapper finally getting the hang of what he was doing; he was feeling comfortable enough to finally establish a more proper pace with his mouth, while still playing against the cock with his tongue. The guitarist hummed against George, sending a teasing vibration throughout the massive cock. George moaned again, suddenly unable to keep his hips from bucking forward from the pleasurable touches. The hip movement startled Charlie; he brought his hands against George’s bare hips, gripping them and holding them down firmly against the mattress as he forced himself back down against the cock, opening his throat up then to be able to take in more of George’s length than he had been able to previously. George groaned, twitching against Charlie’s throat as he watched his boyfriend successfully deep throat - just like he always said he could do.

“Fuck, Jordon…” George breathed out, twisting long brown strands around his fingers and tugging at them gently - just enough to let Charlie know he was loving it. Charlie quickly bobbed his head up and down, tasting the other man’s precum as he swiped his tongue across the swollen head and over his leaking slit. Charlie moaned himself at the first taste of the bassist, caught off guard as his hands allowed another buck of George’s hips up against his mouth. He knew the other had to be close, the larger male continuing to leak as he moved his mouth against him, licking and sucking. “F-fuck, Jord—” George choked out as he finally peeled his eyes from the younger male, eyes shutting tightly as he felt his lower stomach began to tighten and burn, unable to hold out much longer as he reached his breaking point. Without much warning, George came, pouring his hot seed into Charlie’s mouth, his moan sounding out through the quiet hotel room. Charlie’s own eyes tightened shut as his mouth was suddenly filled with cum, shamefully withdrawing from George’s cock, unable to hold all the fluids in and get it down his throat. Semen dribbled down his chin as he let the liquid flow out of his mouth and onto George’s lower chest below him.

The bassist breathed heavily as he came down from his orgasmic high, blue eyes back on Charlie was he looked down at him. He moved his hand from its entanglement in Charlie’s hair, resting his palm against his cheek. “Fuck, babe. You’re a natural.” George chuckled out, causing Charlie’s cheeks to blush red in response. With a thumb, George caressed at the skin of Charlie’s stubbled cheek before noticing a dribble of his own fluid at the corner of the rapper’s mouth, clearing it away with a slow swipe. Charlie smiled up at George before looking back down at the mess he had made on the older man, bringing a hand to dab a couple of fingers into the semen that glistened against George’s skin. He looked back up at George as he popped the fingers into his mouth, wanting to at least taste and swallow some of George correctly. The taste wasn’t something he had ever tried before, but… it was _George_. So naturally, he liked it. “Next time, I’ll swallow,” Charlie promised as he moved up George’s body, finally dropping down to lay back down in the crook of his arm and shoulder. He sighed as he rested his head back down on George’s chest, George shifting some as he used a free hand to pull his boxers back up and over his spent dick and naked hips. “I like hearing there’ll be a next time,” George smiled as he placed his arms back tightly around the rapper, pulling him in closer to his body. “Me too,” Charlie spoke with a yawn, closing his eyes. He finally felt like he may be able to sleep, and minutes later, he easily drifted off with the help of George’s strong arms holding him.

\----

“One more show and it’s back to LA!” Charlie cheered, throwing two fists in the air as he and George stood in the lobby of the hotel, waiting at their meeting spot that the band chose the night before. There was no doubt that Charlie loved performing and touring, but there was nothing quite like being back at home after it was all said and done. Looking around the lobby, George stepped closer to Charlie when there wasn’t any other band mate in sight. “Things aren’t going to go back to normal when we get home... _are they_?” he asked in a low voice, one hand moving to Charlie’s side as the other slowly moved to touch at his cheek. Charlie blushed, giving a small shake of his head. “Good,” George replied as he deciphered the rapper’s body language, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips, having the kiss returned to him promptly by the other.

“Cute.” A familiar voice rang out, Charlie instinctually breaking from the kiss and quickly separating himself from being so close to George. George rolled his eyes, smiling as Danny approached them. “It’s not what it looks like—” Charlie began to defend himself, the larger male shooting him a look. “Relax. He knows, man.” George informed the rapper, raising a brow at him. Though not completely blaming Charlie, he couldn’t help but to suddenly feel… hurt by Charlie’s action, so quick to dismiss the fact that they were caught kissing. The feeling melted away instantly though, as Charlie moved back against him once hearing that Danny was aware of their budding relationship, arm slinking around his waist. “Where’s Dylan?” George asked, surprised that Danny showed up alone without their youngest member at his side. “He’s... in the shower. He’ll be down soon, I’m sure.“ Danny blushed, idly chewing on his lower lip as he looked down at his shoes, kicking at the tiled floor. Charlie raised his own brow, looking up at George as if he was looking for an answer for the strange response from the blonde. George simply winked, pulling Charlie in closer to his chest. Putting two and two together, Charlie’s eyes went wide.

“Sup, bitches?” Jorel greeted as he approached the group from the side, Matt following a few steps behind him. “Dude, why the fuck are you walking sideways?” George asked with a laugh, noticing a limp to the drummer’s step as he approached them. Matt didn’t answer, pursing his lips to the side as he held his tongue. “You and Jay have some fun last night? _Gaaaaay._ ” Charlie teased as he moved away from George’s embrace, getting flicked off by their screamer. “In your dreams, asshole,” Matt replied, his voice raspier than usual, though not before glancing over at Jay, who only grinned at him. “He’s was being a whiny bitch last night,” Jay started, “So I put him in his place… kicked him square in the nuts.” Matt rolled his blue eyes, not sure which was worse - admitting he was fucked into oblivion by Jorel or lying about getting his sack embarrassingly assaulted. “I don’t want to talk about it…” the curly haired man grumbled, awkwardly adjusting the strap of his day bag against his shoulder. “What a little bitch.” Charlie snorted, Matt stared daggers into him.

“Shit! I really thought I still would’ve beaten Jordon down here!” Dylan’s voice chimed from a short distance, the Latino completing the sixsome as he jogged up, his hair still wet from the shower that Danny had mentioned previously. “Mm. You smell good, though.” Danny smiled, catching a few confused glances from his bandmates. “What are you saying? That I don’t smell good?” Charlie pouted, making a face. “That’s always up for debate,” the blonde chuckled, looking from Charlie and back up to his secret boyfriend, giving him a playful wink. “Sorry, Charlie. I’m just irresistible,” Dylan grinned as he moved to put an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “Are we leaving or what?” Matt groaned, growing impatient by the group's idle chatter. Jorel harshly elbowed him in the ribs, “Dude, seriously with the bitching? Didn’t you learn anything from yesterday?” Clutching at his now pained side, Matt shot Jorel a nasty look, not realizing that it faded into a smile only after the other looked away. As the six walked towards the front of the doors, Dylan leaned into Danny, dipping his head down to whisper closer to his ear. “Yo, my ass _still_ hurts.” The blonde giggled softly in response; Charlie, just an earshot away, hung his jaw. _I did not need to hear that._  
  



	8. And It Just Goes On and On and On

Charlie looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, his lower lip slightly pouting outward as he turned his head to the left and then to the right. “Oh, come on. You look great,” George grinned from behind him. Charlie made a face at the bassist through the mirror, “Why’d I even let you talk me into cutting it again?” Charlie asked and sighed, reaching his hand up to brush his fingers through the now short brown hair, cut back to the same hairstyle he normally sported. “Just when I was really liking it, too…” he mumbled out, mostly to himself as he struck another pose with his head. He wasn’t used to having such short hair again, but with everyone on his ass about it during the last tour, he knew he would’ve had to cut it eventually anyway. “Maybe because I said I didn’t want to take a hobo out on a date tonight?” George proposed, grinning as he took a step closer to Charlie, wrapping his arms around his middle. “Want me to cut the pubes next?” Charlie asked in a snarky tone, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder and at the bassist standing behind him. 

George shook his head, hooking his hands around his wrists to lock the younger man in place, pulling him closer against his front. “You look great, Jordon,” He spoke quieter, assuring Charlie as he leaned his head down to kiss at the skin of the rapper’s neck. Charlie sighed, finally turning around in between George’s arms and body to face him. “You owe me.” He playfully grumbled as he popped his Lakers snap back back on top of his head, moving his arms to hook around George’s neck. “Owe you? You mean besides taking you out on a hot date for pizza?” the bassist smirked. Charlie wrinkled his nose in response. George chuckled, leaning in to kiss at his boyfriend’s lips. “Alright. We’ll see.”

“Wait, so you are taking me out on a date?” Charlie asked, raising his brow as his arms dropped from George’s neck. “So that wasn’t just some ploy to get me to shave and cut my hair?” The rapper tilted his head to the side as he looked up at George, the palms of his hands sliding down to George’s firm chest. George rolled his blue eyes, his own hands breaking their lock on his own wrists in order to drop completely from Charlie’s sides. “You say that like you don’t trust me,” George replied, giving Charlie a playful wink as he took a step back, leading the way out of Charlie’s bathroom and into the bedroom. “Well, where are we going?” Charlie asked, genuinely curious now as he followed George much like a puppy would. “I told you. _Pizza_ ,” George replied in a matter-of-fact tone, sitting himself down on the edge of the bed. “Right. ‘Pizza.’ Sounds romantic.” Charlie smiled as he moved to sit down on George’s lap, facing him as he straddled his hips. The older man enjoyed the closeness as he placed his hands back on Charlie’s hips, fingertips slowly tracing random shapes against his sides. 

They had only been back from tour for a few days, but during those few days, the pair had seemed to be pretty inseparable - much like Danny and Dylan, whom they hadn’t really heard from at all since returning to LA. And strangely, they had not even from Jorel and Matt, for whatever reason that was. Since being home from tour, whether at his place or Charlie’s, the pair just spent their time together: talking, eating, smoking up - the usual shit they always partook in while they were back home - except now, with kissing and fooling around on the side. George still couldn’t quite believe this was real life; that only a couple weeks ago they departed Los Angeles for tour as friends, George harnessing just a simple crush on the rapper, only to find themselves coming back and unable to keep their hands off each other. _Not that he was complaining_. 

Leaning in to kiss the other man, Charlie’s hands moved up George’s chest to his shoulders, and finally up to the sides of the bassist’s tattooed neck. His thumbs rubbed gently against his slightly stubbled cheeks, head tilting as he deepened the kiss, their lips parting so their tongues could meet. George’s hands caressed Charlie’s sides, his back, and teasingly down to grip at his ass. Making a noise against the heated kiss, Charlie moved his hips down against George’s, the older man letting out a surprised gasp at the sudden feeling of their hips rubbing together, creating teasing friction against their clothed dicks. The more they kissed, the more Charlie kept on teasing, grinding his ass down on what he now felt was hard in the front of George’s jeans. 

George broke the makeout session first, slightly out of breath as he looked back at the grinning guitarist. “You wanna…?” George asked curiously, his butterfly-tattooed hands giving the other man’s ass a tight squeeze. Charlie just leaning in to peck at his lips. “Take me out on this date first, and then we’ll talk.” He stated nonchalantly as he moved up from George’s lap, standing and giving George a wink. “Where are you going?” George asked as he watched Charlie head for the doorway of the bedroom, looking a bit flustered and confused. “Cigarette. You uh… should take care of that before we head out.” Charlie nodded in George’s direction, taking note of the obvious boner that he was leaving him with. Turning, Charlie left the room, grinning wide as he reached a hand to the back of his head, touching at the short hair that was now missing its long strands. It was bittersweet that his summer locks were gone. _But at least a little revenge was sweeter_.

\----

“You know, George, when you said ‘a hot date for pizza’, I didn’t actually think you’d take me to Pizza Hut.” Charlie laughed as they sat in a corner booth inside the restaurant. He let George do all of the ordering - he knew not to get in between that man and his beloved pizza. “What’s wrong with Pizza Hut?” George frowned. Charlie rolled his eyes at the response, “Absolutely nothing,” he smiled, scooting a little bit closer to George inside of the booth, a hand reaching underneath the table to brush against the older man’s thigh. George chuckled, “Don't be getting saucy on me, Jordy, that's what the pizza’s for.” Charlie snorted, very amused, “That was god damn awful. And I thought Dylan was bad.” He leaned against the bassist. “Hey, don't be thinking of other men during our date,” George joked, pulling the rapper close. Charlie smiled, leaning up to place a shy kiss on his chin, “All I'm gonna be thinking about is—” “Pizza!” George excitedly cut him off as their pizza was placed onto the table. 

George hastily reached for a slice - a double pep with sliders on top - his pizza specialty. Charlie watched in silence and bewilderment as George handled the slice with care, eyeing it up and down with admiration before ultimately taking a large bite. “Shit...” Charlie sighed out, leaning an elbow on the tabletop so he could rest his chin in the palm of his hand, “Definition of fuckin’ relationship goals right there. Find yourself a man who looks at you like George looks at pizza,” the rapper continued, leaning his upper arm in to bump his date’s. George chuckled with a mouthful, dramatically rolling his blue eyes, “Don’t be jealous,” he muttered before swallowing down his first bite of bliss, setting the slice down on his plate and bringing a now free arm around to wrap around Charlie’s shoulders. “You know you have all the toppings in all the right places,” George smiled, leaning in to peck at Charlie’s stubbled cheek. “I’d just eat you up.” Charlie shook his head, moving an arm up to remove George’s arm from his shoulders. “Eat your pizza. We’ll talk about eating each other later,” he grinned, reaching for his own slice from the large pie, sliding it onto his plate. George picked up his slice again, eyes back on the prize. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

The pizza didn’t stand a chance; it was gone in the matter of twenty minutes - not a crumb left to take home. “I think I’ve got a food baby,” Charlie grumbled, looking down and rubbing at his stomach that was protruding out just a bit. George grinned, bringing a hand over to rub at his boyfriend’s belly. “Ah, there’s that chub I missed,” he smiled. Charlie shot him a quick glare. “Don't be such a chubby chaser, I don't plan on gaining weight.” George kissed Charlie's chubby cheek, still gently caressing the tummy, “We’ll see about that.” Charlie feigned a gasp, pulling his head away from the soft kisses that George laid against his cheek. “You’re trying to fatten me up, aren’t you?!” Smiling, George removed his hand from Charlie’s stomach. “Damn, you got me,” he playfully admitted, holding his hands up in surrender. The rapper pouted, moving his arms to fold out in front of his chest, giving his best ‘Matt’ impression. “That’s a low blow, Jonathan.” Leaning in, George pressed another row of tender kisses to Charlie’s cheek, trailing them until he reached close to the rapper’s ear. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” Charlie curiously raised a brow. “Yeah, and how?” he took the bait, closing his eyes as George flirtatiously flicked the tip of his tongue against Charlie’s eyelobe. “With another kind of low blow,” he breathed in a low voice against Charlie’s ear, already feeling the younger male tense beside him. A bashful smile crossed Charlie’s features as George slid a hand up and down Charlie’s thigh, teasingly squeezing against his inner thigh - dangerously near his groin. Charlie gulped, “Uh, waiter? I’ll take _this_ dessert togo.” 

George grinned, quickly pulling out his money and leaving the due amount on the table before practically dragging Charlie out by his wrist. The two made it to the car in record time, making their way to Charlie’s home as George drove. George had his lower lip between his teeth as he drove, his thighs tense while something between them twitched with excitement. _Damn, another red light?!_ Charlie, on the other hand, seemed calm and collected, sporting a small pursed smile as if he had a plan of his own. The younger man rubbed his hand against his hip; the jean material suddenly felt so tight, too hot. His hand glided over his crotch, letting out a needy sigh. George raised an eyebrow before glancing over at the rapper, his blood turning hot. “Keep your eyes on the road, George,” Charlie said, fighting back soft groans as his jean covered crotch humped against his hand. George’s grip on the wheel tightened, he spread his legs further while attempting to keep focus. His boyfriend next to him groaning, humping against his hand like a desperate whore, his desperate whore. 

George bit down harder on his lower lip. His fingertips impatiently tapped against the steering wheel as he waited for the next light to turn green. Buying a moment of time, the bassist peeked away from the road and the traffic light for just a moment, catching a glimpse as Charlie’s hand disappeared inside the front of his jeans. Charlie let out another soft gasp, his fingers curling around his clothed dick to slowly begin to touch himself. “Jesus... what are you doing, Jord?” George spoke out, unable to tear his eyes away from his boyfriend touching himself. Charlie’s blue eyes were set down to his lap, looking up then to find George watching him. “George, dude. It’s green,” he breathed, causing the voyeur to avert his eyes back to the changed light. “Shit!” George groaned under his breath as he pushed the pedal, he didn’t have the ability to continue watching the rapper and his hidden hand. 

Charlie grinned to himself; _Jordon 2 George 0_. Charlie’s hand pumped his cock slowly, moving up and down the hard base, while the pad of his thumb pressed against the sensitive head, caused himself to gasp out to his own teasing touches. “ _Oh, George…_ ” Charlie moaned inside the vehicle, being sure he could be heard over the music playing through the speakers. George, feeling his own needy erection screaming, swallowed down a lump forming in his throat, doing his best to keep some kind of composure while navigating the car quickly, but safety, towards the rapper’s home. There was no way he was going to let Charlie tease him twice in one day. 

\----

“Do you think anyone knows?” Dylan asked as he laid flat on his back against the comfortable cushions of Danny’s bed. The blonde, positioned on top, gently kissed down the course of the Latino’s neck, pausing only when Dylan had spoken. “Know what?” he mumbled quietly against Dylan’s tanned skin, hands continuing to trail up his chest and down to his toned stomach. Dylan hummed quietly, eyes closed while he enjoyed the attention that his secret boyfriend was giving him, “Don’t play dumb. About us.” Danny paused his small lip assault, allowing one final kiss to linger against Dylan’s neck. “Oh… us,” he chuckled quietly, giving a slight shrug of his shoulder as he picked his head up to look down at the taller male. “Well, I may have told George...” 

Dylan raised his brow, the roaming hands against Danny’s bare back coming to a stop. “George? Why?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked up at that perfect puppy dog face. “He needed some advice...” Danny replied, keeping his answers vague while rolling off of Dylan’s body to lay on his side beside the other, propping his head up with a hand and an elbow. “Okay…” Dylan began, shifting himself to also lay on his side, facing Danny, though still staying close. “...But what does that have to do with telling him about us?” Danny sighed, casting his soft brown eyes dramatically off to the side; it was so hard to keep secrets between the Latino. “Maybe because he is, or was going through something similar..?” Danny added a bit more detail, moving his eyes to follow his fingertips that reached out to dance along Dylan’s side, “With one of the other guys?” Dylan’s eyes went wide, leaning in slightly, demanding more of the juicy details. Danny nodded in silent response. “No fuckin’ way! Who?” Danny chuckled, rolling his hazel eyes. “Who do you think, Dyl?” Dylan paused, sucking in his lower lip as he made a face, as if he was thinking long and hard. “...Jay?” 

“No, you hot idiot!” Danny groaned out, rolling onto his own back. Dylan quickly followed in pursuit, scooting back closer to Danny in order to lean against his chest, looking down at him. “Then who?!” Danny stared up at Dylan with his jaw slightly ajar. “Jordon, Dylan. Jordon.” The Latino blinked once as he looked down at Danny, “Jordon? No. Are you sure?” Danny moves his head up and down, “Yes, Dyl. I’m sure.” Dylan paused for a moment, staring down at his lover, almost like he was trying to determine if he was being punk’d or not. “Jordon’s into guys? I always thought him and George were just fucking around…” Dylan spoke, perplexed by this piece of information that he never seemed to know about his best friend. “Well, unless they’ve taken the ‘fake boyfriend’ thing to a whole new level, I found them making out in the hotel lobby a few days ago. So I think it’s pretty safe to assume that’s a yes.” 

Dylan bounced his eyebrows in surprise, finally moving to lay himself back down, head against Danny’s chest, while his arm draped around his middle. “I wonder why he never told me…” Dylan muttered, pouting slightly, tilting his head up when he heard a quiet chuckle cone from his boyfriend. “I don’t know, maybe for a same reason you never told him the same thing?” Dylan blushed then, his chin being tilted up by Danny’s head so he could place a lingering kiss to his lips. “Mm… I guess you have a point.” Dylan hummed as he kissed Danny back, moving his body to playfully roll on top of Danny’s body, straddling his waist. “Maybe it’s finally time to let the cat out of the bag.” Danny simply grinned up at Dylan, giving a soft nod in agreeance. _No more secrets_. “But first… my turn.” the Latino smirked, descending down on the blonde, making him giggle.


	9. Oh Holy Ghost, Is This A Vision?

As the front door swung open, Charlie and George’s bodies clumsily stumbled inside the guitarist’s home. Their lips were firmly attached, tongues hungrily fighting as arms wrapped around each other’s frames and hands roamed each other’s torsos. Using his foot to kick the door closed behind them, Charlie found himself on the losing end of the battle for dominance as his back was pressed up against the shut door by strong arms. George filled the gap between their bodies in seconds. “Fuck, George…” Charlie groaned out once their kiss was broken, only by the sheer need to breathe. George’s mouth was on his neck while his pelvis ground against the rapper’s. He was pinned, able to feel just how strong the bassist really was, he moved his hands up along George’s chest, sliding across his shoulders and back down to his bulging tattooed biceps. 

Charlie wasn’t exactly sure how he ended up in this position; one minute he was the one doing all the teasing inside of the car, touching himself to mess with the older man; it was all out of fun, really. The next thing he knew, he was the one forced against the door, moaning out needily for the other as George moved his hips against his own, adding friction that was nearly impossible to ignore. Dipping his head down to catch George’s mouth with his, Charlie kissed George again, waiting a few moments before pushing himself off from the hard surface, causing the bassist to slightly stumble backward, off guard by Charlie’s sudden movement. The kiss was not broken once as Charlie blindly navigated his boyfriend back, the two coming to a stop at another wall. This time, it was George’s back up against the drywall, Charlie doing his best to regain the upper hand in their hot struggle for control. Their kiss was sloppy, Charlie took his turn to rub his clothed erection onto George’s. George gasped against the rapper’s mouth, hands moving around to Charlie’s ass to grope his cheeks roughly.

Charlie quickly lost himself in their kiss, a small noise sounding in the back of his throat as George easily moved off of the wall. The kiss was parted again, George trailing sharp nips and pecks against Charlie’s jawline and down to his neck. The pair continued their stumbling down the hall towards the bedroom, only stopping as soon as the back of Charlie’s knees hit the edge of the bed. George grinned as he playfully gave Charlie’s chest a push, the smaller man falling back onto the soft surface. The bassist quickly followed suit, climbing onto the bed and on top of the rapper, straddling him at his hips. George paused for a moment, smirking as he looked down at the needy man underneath of him. He rolled his hips down against Charlie’s, the smaller man softly moaned, their lust-filled blue eyes meeting.

George grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, impatiently pulling the fabric up and over his head before tossing it off to the side like an afterthought. The rapper moved his hands up to grip at George’s neck and jaw. He pulled George down towards him, his face meeting him halfway to kiss him flush and hard against the lips. Their tongues met again as they pressed together, George moved a butterfly-laced hand towards Charlie’s still unfastened pants. His hand dove down the front of Charlie’s jeans and underneath his boxers, hand not hesitating to wrap around Charlie’s rock hard cock, beginning to pump him in slow movements. Charlie broke the kiss, letting out a moan, his legs spreading open while the rest of his body started to squirm underneath his boyfriend. “Who’s teasing who, now?” George rumbled against Charlie’s lips, the rapper grunting as George’s hand came to a painful stop, pausing a moment or two, before stroking him again. “George just shut the fuck up and kiss me,” Charlie breathed, pressing back into the kiss as his shifted around slightly, trying to give George more access inside the limited space of his jeans. George leaned out of the kiss, smiling down at his impatient band mate below him. “I have a better idea,” he mused, hand moving off of Charlie completely then so his strong hands could hastily pull at Charlie’s jeans, sending the denim and boxers down past his knees. Charlie quietly hissed, the cool air inside the room teasing against his now free and swollen member. As George shifted his weight on top of the smaller man, Charlie kicked the remainder of his jeans down the course of his legs, allowing them to fall to the floor in a plop along with his shoes. 

George licked his lips, his blue eyes marveling at the half-naked guitarist. “Look at you…” George cooed, his hands gently caressed up the inside of Charlie’s thighs, the touch causing Charlie’s legs and cock to twitch in anticipation. Charlie’s cheeks burned red. “ _George…_ ” was all he could breathe out, his mind too concerned about what those hands were doing. George’s hands passed Charlie’s hips, riding the man’s shirt up his stomach and to his chest. Helping, Charlie lifted his back off the surface of the bed, making it easier for George to remove the last bit of clothing that covered his body. Once the shirt was tossed aside, George’s hands made way back down Charlie’s body, the larger man leaning himself down to brush his lips against the rapper’s lower stomach, his teeth gently grazing a hip bone, nipping against the thin skin there. “George, don’t tease.” Charlie managed to sigh out, biting the inside of his cheek as he observed George’s every move. George casts playful eyes up in Charlie’s direction, a grin forming, “But I love seeing you so fuckin’ needy. Especially when it’s for me.” 

The teasing continued, George grinded as he came face to face with Charlie’s hard cock, looking it up and down with strong need before looking back to Charlie. He watched as the younger man chewed idly on his lower lip, trying to mask his not-so-steady breath from his need filled lust. Moving his head down, George teasingly pressed the tip of his tongue against the base, slowly dragging it upward. Charlie whimpered out, unable to tear eyes away as George’s hot breath beat down against the head of his dick, the bassist pressing his tongue to the tip to lap up the precum that was already beginning to leak from it. Moaning quietly at the first taste of his lover, George moved his head back up immediately after, flashing his perfect teeth. He crawled up the length of Charlie’s body, coming to face his band mate. Charlie frowned. “That’s it?” he painfully asked, his tone sounding whinier than he intended. _Maybe I shouldn’t have done all that teasing earlier..._

George shook his head as he leaned in, brushing his lips against Charlie’s. “What’s wrong? Does Jordy want more?” George whispered against his lips, the rapper quickly nodding his head in order to answer. “What? I can’t hear you,” George prodded further, knowing he was bringing Charlie much discomfort. The guitarist groaned, attempting to answer with a kiss at his boyfriend’s nearby lips, only to be denied as George turned his head just slightly, causing Charlie to miss. “I want more…,” Charlie gave in, his breathing hitching slightly as he moved his hips underneath of George, trying to bring some kind of touch back to his neglected erection. “You want more? Of what?” George tilted his head, laughing softly as Charlie’s face turned sour, the skin at the bridge of his nose scrunching up. “You…” he muttered, George only tilting his head the other way, signaling that he wasn’t yet satisfied with Charlie’s responses. “I fucking want you, you asshole!” Charlie snapped, hips moving back up against the man who was unfairly teasing him. George simply chuckled, “Bingo.” 

George straightened his posture, sitting up to smile down at the man below him. Meeting Charlie’s hips, he grinded his ass down against Charlie’s unclothed cock, causing the rapper to moan and hands to grip at George’s thighs. “I want you too, baby,” George spoke in a low, seductive voice, his fingers slowly undoing the button at the front of his jeans, pulling the zipper down. Charlie watched with wide eyes, feeling his whole body tense as George tugged his own pants down, revealing just how hard he was himself. Feeling a lump built up in his throat, Charlie gulped it down as he took George’s whole body in, still unable to truly fathom just how _large_ the bassist really was. He felt his blood rush downward, watching as George removed his lower clothing to become just as naked as he was. 

Descending back down on his boyfriend, George pressed his mouth to the other’s, their lips moving together slowly, but passionately. Charlie relaxed against the touch, enough to allow his eyes to slip shut as his arms moved to wrap around the man’s neck, holding him down close. Their hips and cocks rubbed against each other, soft gasps escaping from each of their mouths until the want was becoming unbearable for either of them. George was the first to break from the kiss, breathing heavily as he leaned in close to Charlie’s ear, sucking the guitarist’s earlobe into his warm mouth before giving it a playful tug. “Do you have any lube here?” He asked in a low voice, Charlie tensing again to the words, knowing exactly where George wanted to take this next. He nodded softly, “Top drawer. Left side.” George smiled, nodding back once the secret location was revealed. 

Charlie silently observed as George moved off of the bed, the larger man strolling over to the dresser and sliding open the top drawer. George dug through the drawer, smiling when he found a bottle of lube at the bottom, grabbing it before turning back around to return to the man waiting for him in bed. _Is this it? Is this when we..?_ Charlie thought to himself, eyes stuck on George as he tossed the bottle onto the bed beside him, crawling back over him. _Oh god, I think it is._ Instead of straddling Charlie’s hips as he had been, George pushed Charlie’s legs apart, taking his position in between them as he leaned down, kissing along the creamy white skin of his chest and stomach. Blindly reaching for the bottle next to their bodies, George straightened himself up back again, popping the cap and squeezing the contents into his hand. Charlie watched, feeling his heart pounding hard against his chest. Bringing hands up, Charlie pressed his palms to George’s chest, “George, I—” he begun, pausing when he was set back by George’s gentle smile. “I know, Jordy. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” he replied, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Charlie’s lips to reassure him. Once the short kiss ended, Charlie slowly nodded. 

Reaching down with a lube-filled hand, George ran his fingers between Charlie’s cheeks, coating his entrance well. Charlie squirmed at the touch, softly moaning as his eyes cast their gaze to a certain spot on the ceiling, concentrating on it hard to keep his anxiety at bay. George added more lube to his hand, making sure his fingers contained a thick coating. With his clean hand, George lifted one of Charlie’s legs, casually guiding it up so that the back of his calf and knee rested closely against his shoulder. The sudden movement caused Charlie to break from his staring contest with the ceilings, eyes falling back down onto George. The bassist grinned, tilting his head as he began kissing at the leg, lips trailing and teeth nipping at the white skin of his inner thigh; the leg twitched against the touches. Noticing a red marker left against the skin, George kissed at it gently, as if to heal it. He released the leg then, guiding it back down to the surface of the mattress. His fingertips brushed up the length of the thigh until his fingers found way back around Charlie’s cock, pumping him in long, slow strokes. “Fuck you and the teasing!” Charlie groaned out, his hips bucking slightly to the touches on his erection. George chuckled, “Gee. You’re so endearing, Jordon.” 

George leaned over Charlie’s torso, bare chest to bare chest as he kissed at his boyfriend's lips. “I want you to just relax, okay?” he spoke quietly as he withdrew from his lips, his eyes meeting with Charlie’s crystal blue ones. “Ready?” Inhaling hard through his nose, Charlie gave a small nod signaling for George to continue, gasping softly as he felt one of the lubed-up fingers press against his entrance, applying pressure against his tight hole. Charlie moved his arms to wrap around George’s neck, not sure on whether to focus on the hand that hovered so close to his entrance, or the other hand that was still giving his cock attention. George tilted his head to begin kissing at Charlie’s neck, all the while, pushed his digit forward, penetrating the younger man. The rapper immediately tensed from the sudden intrusion, his arms tightening around George as he groaned out. George’s hand paused, picking his head up to watch Charlie’s face, “You okay?” He asked in a low tone, the other quickly nodding his head as he dug his face against George’s tattooed neck. The nod signaled George to continue, pushing his finger further inside, then pulling it back slowly to repeat the process. Charlie let out muffled moans as he felt George preparing him, stretching him. He could feel his body shake, the ache from George’s finger, plus the hand against his cock mixed together to bring some pleasure. 

As George probed Charlie, the guitarist’s body slowly relaxed; Charlie's arms loosened just slightly around his neck. Charlie let out a whine as the hand around his dick suddenly stopped and removed itself; the whine only then turned into a gasp when a surprise second finger pushed inside of him. The bassist’s hand movement picked up to a quicker pace. “Fuck, George…!” Charlie breathed out, unable to control the small moans and groans that quickly slipped past his lips. George grinned, he had a feeling that Charlie would be noisy when it came to sex. Those sounds were like music to his ears; Charlie Scene moaning, and he was moaning just for him. It only made him that more excited. 

As soon as he noticed Charlie moving his hips in time to meet his fingers, he knew he was ready. George withdrew his hand then, Charlie letting out another whine as his eyes quickly shot to look at George, almost looking for an explanation as to why he stopped. “God, you’re hot,” George spoke low, his eyes set on Charlie’s while he squeezed more lube into his palm, running up and down the entire length of his cock, which was standing at full attention. Charlie moved his mouth to speak, though was halted as soon as he felt George’s lips crash against his, the guitarist opting to just moan into his mouth as their tongue twisted against each other. George moved in position, guiding the tip of his cock against Charlie’s ass. He pressed against the tight hole, rolling his hips forward to push past the ring of muscle, penetrating his lover. Their shared kiss immediately ended, Charlie groaning out as he felt George push into him, George letting out his own satisfied groan once his own erection felt how tight Charlie was around him. 

Peeling Charlie’s arms off of his neck, George took the other man’s hands in his, lacing their fingers together as he pushed Charlie’s arms up and over his head, pinning the hands against the mattress and pillows. After pausing for a few moments, George moved his hips further, sliding further inside of Charlie with ease, the other continuing expressing himself through his moans and pants. “Fuck, you’re tight, baby,” George grinned down at the rapper, the guitarist squirming slightly underneath of him. “Just move!” Charlie whined, chest heaving as he breathed heavily, hands squeezing the ones that held him down. “Bossy.” George teased, his hips pulling back slowly before moving forward again, George kept going, establishing a smooth and steady rhythm.

Their labored breaths filled the otherwise quiet bedroom, aside from the squeezing mattress springs and headboard that rocked against the wall with every thrust. George was now pushing in faster, his hands now gripping the rapper’s hips tightly, Charlie responded with loud yelps, pushing his ass down to meet with George’s movements. “Fuck, George! Fuck me!” Charlie yelled, trying to fuck himself against the cock, his whole body bursting with pleasure every time George successfully hit his prostate hard. He felt as if the room was spinning, the only thing visible and clear being George’s face, which hovered just above his own. Charlie writhed in pleasure, watching George's face as his lips turning upward into a smirk. “Right there, don't stop!” Charlie demanded, throwing his head back. George couldn't keep his chuckle in, his breath already harsh as his hips and thighs burned from every thrust. _Yep, Jordon’s definitely loud during sex, and damn, it's really fuckin' sexy._

One of George’s hand moved off of Charlie’s hip, running it up the rapper's chest then back down past his pelvis, where he feverishly started to stroke Charlie’s cock. It took no time for his hand to become slick, Charlie’s cock had been leaking for quite some time now. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Charlie cried out as his thighs tightened against the sides of George’s hips, the double stimulation becoming too much to bear for the younger man. “George, I’m gonna cum, fuck!” He whined, his moans came out shorter and more often as George pushed hard into him. George felt his own orgasm, Charlie’s sexy moans not helping his attempt to hold out longer. With one last slam of the bassist’s cock against his spot, Charlie came without warning, a near scream pushed out of his mouth, his hot cum spilled against George’s hand and between their rubbing stomachs. 

George stared at rapper, watching him cum, _hearing_ him cum, was already enough to throw George over the edge. He came hard with a final thrust, burying himself deep inside of his boyfriend, filling him for the first time. He let out a low moan as he came, his hips slowly rocking back and forth to ride out his orgasm until they came to a complete rest. Charlie let out short whines, slightly squirming as he felt cum run down his ass crack when George pulled out. Their breathing was harsh as they laid there without speaking, George lowered himself against Charlie’s body; chest to chest, stomach to stomach, pelvis to pelvis.

Tilting his head upward, George pressed a kiss to Charlie’s jaw, a hand reaching up to brush through the short strands of brown hair that were slightly damp from sweat. “How was that?” George asked with a sly smile. Charlie opened his eyes to meet those soft blues. “I think I saw a vision,” Charlie chuckled, a blush set on his cheeks that wasn't going away anytime soon. George grinned, stretching his neck out to then kiss Charlie’s lips, allowing the touch to be slow and lazy, though also being sure to throw in a bit of tongue. George pulled back, gently stroking at Charlie’s hair as he laid his head to rest against Charlie’s falling and riding chest. “We should probably go shower, huh?” He asked, feeling as Charlie’s arms then moved to wrap around his shoulders. “No, I just wanna lay here for a little bit longer.” Charlie whispered, eyes closing. George didn’t combat Charlie’s request, as he soon found himself and his lover falling asleep, wrapped in dirty sheets and each other’s limbs.


	10. Ain’t Got The Patience

It was a hot and humid day back in Southern California, the perfect day for lounging about and doing absolutely nothing. Matt was happily laying on his beat-up couch, shirtless, with an ice cold beer in one hand, scrolling through his phone with the other.  _ Alone at fuckin’ last.  _ The last couple weeks on tour had been exhausting, especially with the guys constantly busting his balls, while another busted, well, his ass. He needed this alone time to regroup himself; for some reason, touring was starting to not feel the same as it used to. And with another tour beginning in less than two weeks and his bandmates wanted to gear up to begin writing again, this was the best time to spend on his own. Or at least, that’s what Matt thought until the doorbell rang out. Matt let out a groan, slowly getting up out of his seat without even bothering to pull a shirt back on. He opened the door to see his bandmate on the other side, the same one who had humiliated him in bed just days, maybe a week earlier. Matt made a face, opening his mouth to speak before being cut off when Jorel pulled something out of his khaki pants pocket. “I brought a condom, wanna smash?” 

Matt stood in the entryway, staring in between Jorel and the packaged rubber with bewilderment. The bassist’s sunglasses hid his mischief. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”  Matt muttered in his raspy voice, blue eyes looking at Jay suspiciously. “You gonna let me in or not? Come on, these things expire, y’know,” Jorel said, waving the condom around between his fingers. Matt groaned, his hand reaching out and snatching Jorel's wrist, pulling the bassist inside of his home. “Don't fuckin’ wave that around! I don't want my neighbors thinking I'm some kind of prostitute!” Matt said, shutting the door behind him. Turning around to face his younger bandmate, Matt folded his arms in front of his chest, tapping his foot to show slight irritation. Jorel showed a toothy smile in response, peeling his sunglasses off of his face and pocketing them. “Okay, why are you really here?” Matt asked with a sigh, pursing his lips off to the side. Jorel raised a brow, “What? I can’t be horny?” he asked. Matt responded with a slight gulp. “Then why fuckin’ come to me?” the drummer mumbled, taking a step backward when he noticed Jorel stepping closer, sporting the same smug grin that he had before. 

“Oh, come on, Matty. Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy being my little slut the other night…” Jorel beckoned, noticing Matt shifting awkwardly. Matt didn’t argue with him, biting on his lower lip, cheeks appearing rosy.  _ That was the problem; he fucking loved it _ . “That’s what I thought,” the bassist gleamed as he reached out, grabbing Matt by the waistband of his jeans and forcefully tugging him towards him. Matt let out a whine; Jorel's hand was partially in his jeans, his fingers rested against the drummer’s clothed pelvis. Sliding his hand further down the drummer’s jeans, Jorel palmed Matt from the outside of his boxers, the curly-haired man letting out a soft gasp. 

“Already getting hard thinking about how much you begged for it last time?” Jorel teased, raising a perfect brow as he licked his lips. Without much hesitation, Matt leaned forward, pressing his lips hard to Jay’s. Jorel, however, immediately reacted, leaning his head back and away from the other’s lips as his hand gripped him tightly from inside of his jeans. “What the fuck, dude? Don’t fuckin’ kiss me,” he spat, Matt softly moaning from the rough hold the bassist had on him. Matt panted lightly, eyes going half shut, “Too faggy?” He hoped the answer was no. God, he wanted Jorel. The bassist rubbed him roughly through his boxers. “Yeah, way too faggy, Matt.” The drummer humped against Jorel's hand, “How about I do something  _ really  _ faggy if you let me kiss you?” Jorel tilted his head, a smirk growing, “Oh? And what do you wanna do to me, fag?” 

Matt leaned in, mouth nearly against the other’s gauged ear, “I'll put my big mouth to good use.” Jorel’s hand came to a pause, his lips slightly parting to show a flash of white teeth. “Alright, Matty, you got my attention,” the bassist spoke in amusement, pulling his hand from Matt’s jeans. “Go on, spit it out,” Jorel prodded, wanting to hear Matt’s compromise out loud. “One kiss and I’ll suck that cock of yours,” Matt spoke louder, a bit more confidence in his voice than previously. “And I’ll swallow.” Jorel snorted, shifting where he stood in front of Matt. “You’re right, that is **_really_** fuckin’ faggy,” he chuckled, suddenly feeling lips press hard against his own once more. Jorel stumbled backward, off-balanced when the drummer pressed his weight into the younger male as their _one_ kiss commenced. Their lips both parted, tongues darting to move to touch and taste each other. Matt moaned against Jay’s mouth, making Jorel open his eyes for a moment to look at Matt’s closed ones. _He kinda… seems like he’s enjoying this a little too much._ Jorel bit down on Matt’s lip, letting out a groan, “Let’s move this to your room, I like laying down when I’m getting blown.”

Jorel pulled away from the kiss then, Matt making a soft whimpering noise once the kiss ended too prematurely for him. Matt took a step closer to Jay, his hands running up his bandmate’s clothed chest before grabbing small handfuls of Jorel’s camouflage overshirt, giving the fabric a little tug towards him. “Can we… keep kissing until we get there?” Matt muttered, leaning into the bassist to brush his lips back against Jorel’s, but not quite pressing onto them. Jorel raised a brow, pausing for a moment as he looked Matt in the eyes, blinking a couple of times. He smiled then, taking the opportunity to give a quick nip to the drummer’s lower lip, pulling his head away and out of the curly haired man’s grasp. “No.” Taking hold of Matt by his tattooed arm, Jorel pulled on him and began leading the way through Matt’s home, beelining straight to the other’s bedroom. Once they reached the doorway of the bedroom, Jorel let go of Matt’s arm. Jorel was already kicking off his Vans, climbing onto the bed and making himself comfortable against the pillows. “Hope my bitch is hungry. I haven’t nutted in like 3 days,” Jorel smirked, hands moving to the waistband of his shorts, unfastening the button slowly. 

The drummer cringed, though couldn’t quite look away from Jorel. The desire he had for the other man was so much greater than the worry he had for his pride. Matthew licked his lips as he stepped a knee onto the edge of the bed after Jorel, following like the good obedient slut he was and wanted to be for his friend. All he wanted to do was please him. Crawling further onto the bed on all fours, Matt settled in front of Jay, reaching his hands out to grab at the sides of the bassist’s shorts, helping Jorel tug them and his boxers down the length of his legs until they were slipped off completely. Matt took Jorel in with his eyes, the man already stiff and waiting on him to make his move. “What are you looking at? Suck it, bitch,” Jorel commanded, leaning back against the pillows a bit more, a hand wrapping around his cock momentarily to give it a few slow strokes. 

Matt moved hastily, not wanting to keep Jorel waiting much longer; in reality, he couldn’t wait for himself to take that dick in his mouth. Matt wet his lips, inhaling deeply through his nose before lowering his head down upon Jorel, allowing his tongue to swipe across the tip of the rapper’s cock. Matt moved his hands on each side of Jay’s hips, his fingertips gripping at the skin as he moved his mouth further down the length of Jorel, moaning softly in the process. The screamer worked his tongue against the side of the base and back up to the head, allowing a thick layer of saliva from his mouth to pour and run down the hard dick. “Not half bad, Matty,” Jorel smirked down at Matt as he watched the show, reaching a tattooed hand down to lose his fingers in the massive dark hair atop of Matt’s head. “Now I  _ know _ you’ve done this before.” 

Matt ignored Jay’s words as he concentrated on trying to get the bassist off, his tongue lapping at the slit, already able to taste what was already beginning to leak. Beginning to bob his head up and down, he moved his tongue and lips along the cock, feeling a bit accomplished when he finally caught the sound of Jay’s first escaped moan. Matt flicked his blue eyes upward to look to the bassist; Jorel’s head was bent back against the top of the pillows, his eyes closed with his lips lazily parted. Another soft sound left those lips that Matt finally got a chance to taste, the screamer grunting and being pulled away from his thoughts when he felt his dark curls beginning to get tugged on. 

“Yeah, just like that, faggot,” Jay muttered out; Matt continued to obey, repeating the movements that he found Jorel responded to the most. More of Jorel’s taste filled Matt’s mouth as he gave the head more attention, eyes slipping closed as he moaned against Jay, sending subtle vibrations through the hard cock. His moan turned more into a shocked gasp as soon as he felt Jorel’s hand suddenly move to the back of his head, forcing the screamer to practically swallow him. “Stop being fuckin’ lazy. I know you can take it all.” Jorel breathed, watching as Matt deepthroated him. Matt’s eyes teared up as he controlled his gag reflex, letting out a whine. Jorel relieved Matt for only a few moments before forcing his head back down on him again, this time, Matt able to take him down with much more ease. “That’s a good slut,” Jorel praised, stroking Matt’s hair through his fingers. 

Jorel gripped at the sheets with one hand, as the other held its grasp to Matt’s curls. His breathing was heavy, eyes glued as Matt bobbed his head feverishly. He was getting close; he could feel it, and by the way Matt’s pace had picked up significantly, he was sure the other knew it too. His muscles burned and twisted, Jorel bit down on his lower lip as if it would slow down his body’s response to the rather impressive blowjob. “Okay, that’s enough,” Jorel spat out, a hand moving to Matt’s shoulder to force the drummer’s torso upward and off of him. Confused, Matt tilted his head to the side. “Turn the fuck around,” Jorel breathed out, sitting up from where he had sunk deep into the pillows. Matt didn’t argue but did as he was told, his hands fumbling to grab at the elastic of his basketball shorts. He gasped when Jorel pulled on the shorts himself, dragging the material down past Matt’s hips, who resumed his position on all fours, facing away from Jorel. Jay positioned himself behind Matt, the other already bracing himself for what was to come next. “B-but… but what about the condom?” Matt managed to breathe out, looking up and over his shoulder at the man who only smirked down on him. “It's not like I need the lube; you made me nice and wet so you'll take me raw like the good little fag you are.” Matt's thoughts were cut off as he felt a rough insertion.

\----

“Oh fuck! Ah, George, my legs—” 

“Lemme help you, Jordy,” 

“Oh, fuck, right there! Ahhh—I'm gonna cum, oh god, I'm gonna cum,” Charlie whined out, the rapper hunching his torso and bowing his head forward. His hazy gaze pointed down at a heavily tattooed chest, while his boyfriend continuously pounded up against his prostate from below. George held onto Charlie's hips tightly, thrusting up into his tight ass as they both neared their impending orgasms. Charlie was the first to reach his breaking point, one last hard thrust into him as he rode the bassist, his eyes tightly closed as overwhelming pleasure surged throughout his entire body. “Fuck, George!” he cried out, his body quivering as he spilled out over George’s lower stomach, his thighs and ass tensing and clenching around his lover. George moaned out, Charlie tightening around him was too much. Using his hands that gripped at his boyfriend’s hips, he guided Charlie down to slam their hips together one final time, George grunting as he came, burying himself deep inside the younger male. 

Their synchronized panting filled the room, an exhausted Charlie finally moving and climbing off of George, rolling to the side in order to lay down beside him. He shifted slightly, able to feel his boyfriend’s fluids already beginning to seep out of him, running passed his lower cheek and down the back of his thigh. “God damn, why didn’t we start doing this sooner…,” Charlie sighed once he began to catch his breath again. He leaned his tired body against George, resting his head and hand against the other’s chest, both their skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Tilting his head up, Charlie gave the bassist a lazy smile, the expression quickly returned as George moved an arm to wrap around his shoulders, holding him closer to his body. “They say the longer the wait, the sweeter it is,” George chuckled, his fingertips trailing against Charlie’s bare shoulder, idly drawing random shapes into the skin. Charlie scrunched his nose up into a wrinkle, “Yeah, well...I don’t like waiting.” Shaking his head, George let out a soft chuckle. “Well, you don’t have to wait anymore now, do you?” George asked as he shifted his head against the pillow, reaching his other hand across his body to brush his fingers through Charlie’s slightly damp hair. 

The rapper pouted slightly, settling his head back down on George’s chest. His palm against George’s chest slipped across the skin and down to his stomach, fingertips accidentally sliding into the mess that he had left there just a few minutes ago. “When we go back on tour in a couple weeks, I’ll miss this,” Charlie sighed, George’s own fingers that danced across Charlie’s shoulder and upper arm coming to a pause. “What do you mean?” George asked, raising a brow slightly as he continued looking down at his boyfriend. “Y’know… this _ , _ ” Charlie responded, giving a small shrug of his shoulder. George hummed, “We can still fuck on the bus, we'd just have to kick everyone else off and…” Charlie shook his head, “No, I mean,” he nuzzled into George's chest with a sigh, “ _ this.  _ Being boyfriends and all…” 

George shifted from where he was laying, sitting up so that the pillows helped prop his torso. The movement caused Charlie to whine a bit, disrupting his own comfort and having to sit up on an elbow. “...And why exactly can’t we be boyfriends while we’re on tour?” George asked, voice now stern and serious. Charlie chewed on his lower lip, his blue eyes trailing off of George in order to stall his gaze on the random pattern on the bed sheets. “I don’t know, with the guys an’ all…? I mean, at least we still have the ‘fake’ boyfriend thing going—” Charlie was cut off from his thoughts, feeling a hand press underneath his stubbled chin. Having his face raised, he found George leaning in just mere inches. “Stop right there,” George spoke, eyes dead set on the rapper. “I refuse to go back to that.” Charlie’s heart sank a bit. At least it would’ve been the easiest way to still kiss and touch George in front of everyone without having to have an explanation for doing it. 

George leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to Charlie’s mouth. The kiss was slow and gentle, their lips moving and fitting together as if they were practically made for each other. Charlie got himself lost in the kiss; the moment he pressed his tongue to George’s, the kiss was broken by the other, his face pulling back just slightly. “I refuse for  _ this _ to be fake anymore, Jordon,” the bassist stated again, Charlie now unable to break his eyes away from those crystal blue ones. Not only because he adored those eyes, but also because George still had a firm grip on his face, keeping him from wandering away again. “What do you propose we do, then?” Charlie asked, earning a dramatic sigh from the other. “Jesus. We  _ BE _ boyfriends, Jordon. No more secrets, no more sneaking around. We tell the guys, we tell the world, and we tell each other - we’re not fake.” 

Charlie felt himself blush, the mere thought of  _ coming out _ and being romantically involved with his bandmate causing his anxiety to go up. George took note of the subtle color gracing those round cheeks, the older male leaning in to gently peck at the skin there. “Don’t worry. It won’t be that big of a deal, Jordy,” George spoke softly, his trail of pecks leading to Charlie’s jawline. “Danny already knows, anyway. And I’m sure he probably already told Dylan in some way.” Charlie’s eyebrows bounced once.  _ Oh yeah, I forgot those two had something going, too. _ “That just leaves Jay and Matt,” Charlie finished George’s sentence, the bassist nodding in confirmation. “Matt’s the one I’m worried about,” Charlie muttered, pursing his lips to the side. The screamer probably would never let him live it down, considering how often Charlie gave him shit about something that probably wasn’t true. “Don’t you worry about Matt,” George chimed in, breaking Charlie from his thoughts. “You may like to suck dick and take it up the ass, but that still makes you less of a fag than Matt is.” 

Charlie laughed softly, moving from where he was propped up in order to move closer to George again, his bandmate taking him back into his arms as soon as he leaned into him. “So, it’s settled, then?” George asked, nuzzling his nose and lips gently into Charlie’s short hair.  _ Maybe he did miss Jordon’s longer locks that used to be there, but he’d never tell. _ Charlie paused for a moment, expressionless as he looked to George. A small smile to fall back across his lips then, giving a single nod in response. “Yeah. Let’s do it.” George’s own smile widened against Charlie’s hair, moving his head to press a solid kiss to his lover’s lips. Giggling against the touch, the guitarist moved his arms to wrap around George’s neck, using strength to pull the man in and over top of him. Breaking the kiss, Charlie’s smile turned mischievous. “Round two?” 

“Round two,” George smirked, leaning back in to kiss his boyfriend’s lips. Not his fake, but his  _ real  _ boyfriend.


	11. Oh No, No, I Can't Hide It

“How many times have I told you _not_ to wait last minute to pack?”

George sat on the edge of Charlie’s bed, arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched the rapper feverishly shove anything and everything nearby into his small suitcase. Without even folding his clothing, Charlie shoved t-shirts into one side of the bag, and shorts into the other. He wasn’t even sure if he had enough of each for their month-long tour or not but didn’t have the time to count or double-check. “Don’t forget the undies,” George teased. Charlie finally looked up from his bag to give George a look, scrunching his nose up and narrowing his eyes into a glare. “Gee, thanks Mom,” he sneered, rolling his eyes before looking back down to concentrate on his bag again, continuing his special form of ‘packing’. “And _please_ be sure to pack your bandana this time? Wouldn’t want to have it shipped overnight... _again_ ,” George prodded even more, grinning when he could tell his teasing was starting to get his boyfriend flustered. “Okay, okay. Get off my nuts, alright?” 

George flashed his perfect teeth, “I’m pretty sure you were on mine thirty minutes ago.” Charlie looked up from his bag again, annoyed, yet still couldn’t help but to smile, “Then maybe _you’re_ the real reason why we’re late.” George stood up, wrapping his arms around Charlie's waist, nuzzling into his neck. He hummed, “You wanted it so badly though, _Harder, oh fuck me harder_ ,” he mimicked. Charlie shuddered softly, “Can't help that your cock feels good. Now get off so we can leave already.” He tried to sound less embarrassed than he was, trying to shrug his boyfriend off his shoulder. George chuckled, leaning in to press one final peck to Charlie’s cheek before ultimately dropping his hands from the other’s waist, stepping off to the side to roam around Charlie’s bedroom. “Socks...jacket…deodorant…toothbrush. I think that’s everything,” Charlie mumbled out, moreso to himself as he did a mental checklist of the contents inside. Zipping up his bag, George dangled something in front of his face. “...Bandana?” George raised a brow, giving the fabric a small shake. “I was getting to that! Dick...” Charlie groaned, snatching his bandana from the bassist’s hand and stuffing it into the bag’s small opening, zipping the rest up. “I may be a dick, but at least you _love_ it,” George grinned triumphantly, Charlie ignoring him as he tugged his bag off of the bed and onto the floor. “Alright, let's get the fuck out of here,” Charlie declared, adjusting the cap that sat atop his head. George raised his hands to the sky, “Thank you, God.”

“I know, I know… Jordon procrastinated again. Yeah, I know, I’ve told him a million times—alright—but we’re on our way now. Okay, see ya soon,” George spoke into his cellphone, speaking to Danny on the other line while he drove; Charlie sulked in the passenger seat as he listened in on the conversation. _Sure, I did wait until the day of to pack, but George is also at fault here! Maybe he shouldn’t be so goddamn irresistible all the time!_ Snapping out of his thoughts, Charlie caught George saying a final goodbye, hanging up and shifting in his seat to pocket his phone. “Left out that other minor detail, huh?” Charlie sarcastically asked. George looked and smiled over at Charlie for a moment, placing his hand against the rapper’s thigh. “Don’t be a brat. They’ve been waiting on us for the past twenty minutes.” Charlie slumped in his seat a bit, “Who’s they?” George rolled his eyes, knowing he had already gone over the day’s schedule with the guitarist several times. “We’re meeting Dylan and Danny, and then we’re heading over to the bus together.” Charlie slowly nodded his head, then tilting it to the side. “What about Jay and Matt?” George shrugged in response. “They both said that they were going to be heading over early. They’ll meet us there. Checking the bus out and stocking it up.” Charlie slumped a little further in his seat, feeling butterflies beginning to fly around in his stomach. He was excited for tour, of course, but was nervous at the same time. Today was the day that his closest friends would find out that he was in a relationship. Not just in any relationship, but in a relationship with another man; with George. His anxiety ate at him a bit, but he knew it had to be done. It was something that George wanted; it was something that _he_ wanted. This was real. Letting his eyes set on the hand resting against his thigh, Charlie brought his hand up to overlap it, allowing his fingers to gently lace together with George’s. He couldn't help but think just how perfectly their fingers came together. _God, I’m a fuckin' sap for this guy already._

“We’re here,” George announced, grinning as he placed the vehicle in park. Charlie lifted his head from his phone to look out the window, taking in the surroundings that didn’t appear to be correct. Charlie looked back to George, giving him a confused expression. “A restaurant? I thought we were meeting up with Danny and Dyl?” George chuckled, pulling the car keys from the ignition and unbuckling his seatbelt. “We are, dummy. C’mon, let’s go.” Following George’s lead, Charlie climbed out of the car and walked around the car to meet George on the other side, the bassist immediately taking Charlie’s hand in his. “I thought… we were supposed to be heading to the bus?” Charlie asked, allowing George to hold his hand as they walked towards the entrance of the small restaurant. “Dan and I were talking the other day, and we thought all of us could use a date.” Charlie raised his brows, “A date?” George chuckled, giving Charlie’s hand a small squeeze. “Welcome to our first double date, babe.” 

George led the way inside the restaurant, gently tugging Charlie by their enlaced hands, passing the hostess station and bee-lining straight to the dining room. They spotted the other pair already at their table for four, a booth in the corner. Their bandmates were both giggling, Dylan’s arm draped around Danny’s shoulders, while the blonde was curled up to the other’s side. Charlie couldn’t help but to stand and watch them for a moment; it was still “weird” in his perspective, watching as Dylan pressed a few kisses to Danny’s cheek and neck, their singer continuing to giggle during their conversation. But at the same time, he found himself smiling at how they interacted; how the two men just looked so _natural_ together and seemed to have no care in the world. It didn’t matter who saw them, because to them, _they_ were all that mattered. Charlie chuckled softly to himself; they were really fucking cute, to be honest. It only made Charlie feel that much more confident about himself, and his budding relationship with his bandmate. That could be him and George, no, it _will_ be him and George. “You comin’?” George asked suddenly, Charlie reverting his gaze back to his boyfriend when the other spoke out. “Yeah. Of course I’m comin’,” the younger confirmed with a soft smile, Charlie giving George’s hand a squeeze as he stepped in closer to his side. 

“Sorry we’re late,” George greeted Dylan and Danny first, sliding into the other side of the booth first and making room for Charlie. “Captain Procrastinate, right here.” George teased, pointing a thumb in Charlie’s direction. Charlie rolled his eyes, leaning his elbows against the table. “What else is new? Did you remember to pack your bandana this time?” Danny asked with a grin, Charlie playfully bringing a hand up to flip him the bird. “Jesus Christ, _yesssss_ , I packed the bandana.” Charlie groaned, face planting into the table in front of him. “Y’all are assholes.” Bringing an arm underneath the table, George pressed his palm to Charlie’s thigh, gently caressing it. He leaned in close, gently pecking at Charlie’s blushing round cheek as soon as Charlie came up from the table’s surface. The rapper smiled softly at the touch, his eyes immediately directing to the couple on the other side of the table as if looking for some kind of reaction on their faces from the display of small affection. _There was nothing_. No weird looks, no snide comments. They didn’t see him as anything different. Just _natural_. Just same ol’ Jordon and George. 

“You okay? You’re quiet,” George leaned in to whisper in Charlie’s ear, the rapper not realizing that he had actually been lost in his own thoughts for a few minutes while the others conserved back and forth across the table. Charlie just smiled, giving a small nod, “Never better, babe.” Tilting his head to the side, Charlie dared to lean in, pressing his lips to the other’s. Not a peck, but a kiss, allowing their lips to move slowly and gently against each other. A _real_ kiss. George gladly kissed back, Charlie able to feel the bassist’s wide grin against his mouth. “Okay, get a room, you two,” Danny muttered, their kiss ending when George couldn’t control a chuckle rolling off his tongue. “Speaking of rooms…” Dylan butted in suddenly, halting his speech as soon as the server came to interrupt them. 

A round of beers were ordered, appetizers to share. They couldn’t spend _all_ day on their impromptu double date - they still had to get to the bus. Jorel and Matt would probably start wondering where they were. “Ahem...Speaking of rooms.” Dylan resumed, eyes watching the server as she strolled off, his brown eyes going straight back to Charlie. “Who’s…. y’know. Bottom.” Danny’s eyes went wide, elbowing Dylan in the ribs. “Dyl!” Dylan grabbed at his damaged side, quickly directing his eyes to his blonde boyfriend. “What?! It’s a valid question! A guy’s gotta right to know!” Charlie could feel his cheeks heat up, George noticing the younger man’s change in color. Charlie opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he felt a squeeze against his thigh, George leaning over the table a bit. “Me, obviously,” George replied, speaking in a slightly dramatically effeminate voice. “I just can’t get enough of that dick.” Danny covered his mouth his hand, holding in a bit of laughter as he looked at his near dumbfounded lover. Dylan’s jaw hung open, his eyes going in between Charlie and George. “No shit? Nice, man!” Dylan held his hand out to Charlie, looking for a high five. “All night long,” Charlie smirked, slapping his palm firmly against Dylan’s to complete the celebratory gesture. He let out a heavy sigh to himself, relieved by George’s noble sacrifice. _I’ll have to repay him later._

“We should probably get going, huh? Matt’s probably throwing a conniption fit, and we’ll never hear the end of it…,” Danny muttered out, checking for the time on his wrist before bringing his bottle of beer up to his lips to down the rest. “You’re probably right. What a little bitch,” Charlie crunched his nose; as it turned out, he actually enjoyed this sudden surprise double date. It felt good to be out in the open with George _technically_ for the first time; as a _real_ couple, showing _real_ affection. It eased his nerves knowing and seeing how supportive Danny and Dylan were and it almost made it easier that both couples were taking that same step together; that they didn’t have to experience this alone. Sliding out of the booth, Charlie reached his arms up and over his head, arching his back as he stretched and let out a dramatic yawn. Feeling strong arms wrap around him from behind, he smiled as George came near, pressing his front to Charlie’s back. _He loved this closeness_. His eyes closed, head tilting to the side when George pressed gentle kisses to the crook of his neck. “Seriously, can you two be any fuckin’ cuter?” Charlie’s eyes opened, finding Danny and Dylan’s eyes on them. Dylan’s arm draped around Danny’s waist, the singer holding Dylan’s hand close with both hands. “It’s about fuckin’ time too, homie.” Dylan chimed in after Danny, the sentiments causing Charlie to blush. _God damnit, cheeks!_ “Y’all were made for each other. We’re happy for you.” Looking over his shoulder to George, Charlie took note of that smile the bassist wore; he loved everything about that smile. He loved everything about that man. And there was nothing wrong with that. There was nothing wrong with this. And there never would be. _This was right._

\----

“Do I _still_ have to stay in the bitch bunk?” Danny pouted, looking to his bandmates as they pulled their luggage along and approached the parked bus, their home for the next month. “You know the rules, Danielthan. Bitches get the bottom bunks,” Charlie grinned as he removed his cigarette from his lips, flicking the end of the filter against his thumb to discard the ash that built up. The couples halted at the outside of the bus door, all wanting to finish their cigarettes before climbing aboard; or maybe just to cherish one last silence before their drummer blew a gasket. “Don’t worry, baby. You can just stay in my bunk with me,” Dylan offered as he wrapped his arm around the blonde’s waist, Danny’s hazel eyes lighting up as he smiled. 

“Speaking of rules… can we go ahead and establish a ‘no fucking while everyone else is on board’ rule?” George chimed in, his own cigarette hanging loosely from his pursed lips. “Unless it’s us, then it’s cool,” Charlie added, smirking over at his boyfriend and giving him a wink before reaching out and playfully groping his boyfriend’s ass, “First dibs on the back lounge!” George couldn’t contain a slight giggle, admiring the newfound boldness coming from the rapper. Danny’s face twisted in response, “I don’t think I’ll ever be sitting on that couch after hearing that.” Charlie took one last drag from his cigarette, discarding it as soon as it was spent. He grabbed George’s hand in, pulling the door to the bus open. “Should we break it in, Georgie?” Charlie slyly grinned, tugging George’s arm as he stepped backward onto the bus. Looking over his shoulder at Dylan and Danny, George innocently shrugged his shoulder, “Give us ten minutes…?” Charlie gave George’s arm another tug, “...or twenty!” he blurted, getting George up the stairs to the main bus landing.

Dropping their bags right at the entryway, Charlie wrapped his arms around George’s neck, while George’s hands pressed to the rapper’s waist. Charlie carefully steered himself backwards, pulling his boyfriend along down the length of the bus, “So, you take it up the ass? Can’t get enough of my dick?” Charlie retorted, bouncing his brows playfully as blue eyes met with blue eyes. George chuckled as he leaned his forehead against Charlie's, “You owe me, Jordy,” he responded lowly, following closely against Charlie as he pressed his front to the other’s, making their way closer to their destination. As their lips finally hungrily pressed together, the rapper’s back met with the door to the bunk room, only one more door between them until reaching the back lounge. Just as Charlie leaned back against the hard surface, supplemented by George trying to pin him, the ajar door suddenly gave way, promptly sending the couple stumbling backwards and to the floor, George landing on top of the other. Landing with a loud thud, Charlie groaned, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his head. As he leaned his head backwards, he and George both couldn't help but notice the back lounge door, already wide open. 

A familiar voice cried out “ _Fuck, Jorel!_ ” past the opened door. George blinked; Charlie gasped. They all knew that their two additional bandmates were planning on arriving to the bus earlier to inspect, and to stock up before it was time to head out. But what they _didn't_ expect was what they were doing instead. “Holy. shit.” Charlie gaped as he shifted from his position as soon as George moved to get up, the rapper rolling onto his stomach to face the unsightly scene playing out in front of them. Jorel was standing behind Matt, wearing a muscle shirt and bare from the waist down. Matt was completely nude and bent over the couch, the dominant man’s hand clamped firmly over his mouth. Jorel's cock was buried deep inside the drummer’s ass, though their movements were frozen in time as pairs of eyes stared between each other; deer in headlights. Matt looked terrified, one hand on Jorel's wrist, tugging at it, while the other hand clutched the couch’s leather. “It's...it’s not what it looks like!” Matt quickly yelled as soon as he forced Jorel's hand off from his mouth, grabbing for a nearby pillow in a poor attempt to cover himself. “I FUCKIN’ KNEW IT!” Charlie yelled out, finally moving and making way onto his knees. Jorel pursed his lips, a disappointed look plastered on his face, “Could ya maybe give us a few minutes?” George, already up on his feet, swiftly moved toward the opened door, “Yep, no problem,” shutting the door firmly in front of him. 

“What happened?! We thought we heard a crash!” Danny called out, he and Dylan coming down the middle of the bus from the front lounge to find Charlie down towards the floor. George helped Charlie the rest of the way up by the arm, the rapper still looking like he had just seen a ghost. “They were… he was…” Charlie spoke in broken speech, pointing towards the closed lounge door ahead of them. Dylan and Danny both looked in between each other, eyes guiding back towards to Charlie, giving puzzled looks before settling on George to get a more accurate answer. “Oh, it was nothing. Jordon just slipped, is all.” Charlie gasped at George’s cover up, quickly shaking his head. “No fuckin’ way! Those two were fu—“ Charlie was suddenly silenced, pulled by the waist by his boyfriend to have lips planted hard against his own. Charlie made a soft noise against George’s mouth, George’s tongue slipping past his lips to press to Charlie’s. 

The door to the back lounge slowly cracked open, a fully clothed Jorel emerging as he slipped past the small opening and closing the door behind him once more. “Oh, hey guys… whoa.” Jay then paused, watching as his two bandmates engaged in a lip lock, Charlie unable to break from the convincing kiss that telling him to to just shut the hell up. “Jordon. George. You guys are… _uh_ … taking this boyfriend thing to a new level, huh?” Jorel asked, awkwardly scratching at the back at his neck. George was the one to break the kiss, Charlie in a state of sudden breathless, in which the bassist intended to leave him in. “Yeah, something like that,” George smiled as he looked from Jorel back to his boyfriend, leaning in to kiss him once more. Charlie, finally noticing the additional presence in the room, was next to break their kiss; there was no way he could ignore this, no matter how good that kiss was. “Dude! You and Matt were fucking!” he audibly accused, pointing a finger over in Jay’s direction. Jorel cringed, Danny whipping his head around in order to look at him, “What?!” The youngest frowned, looking at the dark-haired bassist, “You and Matt are dating?” 

Jorel quickly held his hands up in front of himself as defense, speaking without much hesitation. “Hey now, back up a bit. I’m not dating the guy, it’s nothin’ but sex,” he justified, hushing up as the lounge door squeaked open, their curly-haired drummer finally revealing his clothed self. His normally pale cheeks were now a beet red color, his blue eyes cast shamefully down to the floor. “Right, Matty?” Jorel raised a brow in Matt’s direction, the older man not even attempting to look back at him. “Yeah. What he said,” the screamer muttered, trying to hide to slightly hurt tone in his voice. Charlie, covering his mouth with his own palm, began giggling, promptly receiving a sharp elbow to the side by his boyfriend. “Get fucked, Jordon!” Matt barked, gritting his teeth as his hands clenched into frustrated fists. 

Charlie smiled, rubbing out the pain in his side where he had been assaulted at. “Calm your tits, alright Matty?” the rapper chuckled, moving an arm to hang loosely around George’s waist, pulling him in closer to him. “And if you’re really _that_ concerned about it, I’m already getting fucked, thank you.” George returned the smile then, his own arms guiding to wrap around his boyfriend’s body. Matt rolled his eyes, expecting what he thought was a sarcastic remark; only then realizing the soft facial expressions of the others as they watched the couple interact. “Wait...what?” Matt’s own face contorted, watching as George brought a hand up to gently brush his fingertips against Charlie’ cheek, trailing the touch to his jawline and down to his stubbled chin. He leaned in to kiss Charlie, the kiss soft and slow, each man smiling into the gentle touch that they put on display for the others. It wasn’t forced, it wasn’t fake. Noticing this, Matt’s eye twitched, quickly looking away from the couple as they kissed, feeling blush creep further onto his face. 

“Hold on... “ Dylan broken the silence, blinking his brown eyes as sudden realization hit. “Jordon’s bottom?” Both stopped kissing then, heads turning in the direction of the Mexican. Charlie gave him a straight face, though unable to mask his smile when George began pecking at his cheek and soon down to his neck. “I just can’t get enough of that dick,” Charlie shrugged, repeating George’s earlier remarks from their date. His attention then fell back on those soft blue eyes that looked down into his own. The rapper moved his arms from around George’s body to drape around George’s neck, the other man now the only one he focused on. He whispered quietly then, his words only audible enough for his lover to hear, “I can’t get enough of _him_.” Using his tip-toes, Charlie hoisted himself closer to George’s height, lips touching again. _This is real._

“I fuckin’ told you guys,” Matt muttered, crossing arms in front of his chest. Earning a smack to the back of the head, Danny sighed, "Shut up. Don't ruin the moment."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All fics must come to an end. We would like to thank everyone who have commented, sent kudos, and overall just showed their love and support. We hope you enjoyed this just as much as we enjoyed writing it. Let us know what you thought!


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